Fire and Ice
by ReillyJade
Summary: The last thing Kristoff expects during his second season with the team is to fall for a girl, and especially not the owner's daughter. He never wanted to love again. Little does he know that Anna's been hurt before, too, and she's just as scared as he is. Add in a rival team, trade rumors, and a horrendous accident, it's a season to remember... or maybe forget. Modern!AU, hockey.
1. The Interview

___DISCLAIMER:_ All of the characters in this story belong to Disney and are inspired by the work of Hans Christian Andersen. No profit is being made from this story. It only serves to (hopefully) entertain_.___

Rated M for language, substance use, and sexual situations. Trigger warnings: Emotional abuse/recovery for sure. Story may or may not end up including mentions of cutting, attempted suicide, and sexual abuse.

* * *

**Chapter 1: **_**The Interview**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

Hair matted with sweat and face reddened, Kristoff Bjorgman left the locker room and trudged down the black and gold corridor toward the stairs. He hadn't even bothered changing out of his practice gear, stopping only to toss his helmet in his bag and replace his skates with sneakers. He just wanted to get this ordeal over with.

Kristoff knew he should have considered himself lucky. A year had gone by since being drafted by Boston, yet aside from the conclusion of his very first home game, he'd miraculously avoided doing any interviews or press conferences. Win or lose, he was always one of the first to leave the ice and head for the locker room in an attempt to dodge reporters and sportscasters all clamoring to ask the same bullshit questions game after game. He even managed to escape excited interrogation after his hat trick against Calgary in March. It was just as well, seeing as he had several teammates who loved the attention and glory and were more than happy to deliver answers into the microphones. Kristoff, however, had never been in it for that; he was there to play the game, plain and simple.

But with the new season rapidly approaching, his lucky streak had come to a bitter close when Fan Relations requested an interview with him. They were putting together the program that would be sold at home games and needed to sit down with a few members of the team. Kristoff, to his dismay, had been one of the three players selected by none other than Adgar Arendelle himself, and it was for this very reason denying the interview request was impossible no matter how much he wanted to.

Arendelle was the team owner, and a man Kristoff very much admired and respected. So many team owners sat idly by, raking in revenue and showing up only when something was wrong. Some of them weren't even _people,_ but corporations or conglomerates instead. The Bruins, however, were one of the few teams still owned by a family, and Arendelle was very much a hands-on owner. He was at the stadium regularly, watched the team practice, and conversed with both the coaches and players. He was a friendly and humble man, and had turned his ownership into a true family affair: Arendelle's wife ran a team charity and his eldest daughter was learning the ropes of team management in preparation to take over one day.

Kristoff eventually reached the concourse that circled the arena. It was an eerie place to walk through while it was closed. There were no pretzels spinning in their glass cases at the concession stands, no popcorn being popped, no sodas or beers being spilled by chatty patrons. The mobile merchandise booths were locked up and tucked into corners. The floors were clean and the rubbish bins were empty. Kristoff nodded at the lone custodian he encountered; he appeared to be fixing the neon lighting around one of the glass-encased posters. Kristoff scowled as he saw his own face on a team banner, blown up to the size of a damn mountain.

He eventually reached the door leading to a small cluster of administrative offices. As the arena was closed to the public, the door to the hallway was left ajar, so Kristoff stepped in. He passed payroll and accounting before arriving at a door labeled _Fan Relations_. He didn't bother knocking before stepping into the room.

Kristoff did not expect what he saw. He figured it would be a stuffy man in a business suit waiting for him, or a middle-aged woman with gaudy jewelry and thick-rimmed glasses. Instead, he saw a young woman sitting at one of five desks; she looked to be his age, if not younger. She was staring at her computer screen rather than her fingers as she typed something very quickly.

"Um, hello."

She looked away from her screen, still punching words in.

"Mr. Bjorgman!" she chirped, yanking her hands from the keyboard so fast she almost fell backward. "You must be Mr. Bjorgman!"

The woman rose from her chair and stepped around her desk. As she got closer, Kristoff recognized her. He'd seen her face on the jumbotron a few times during breaks in play while on the ice. She usually wore a jersey or Bruins jacket. That day, she was dressed in very plain, albeit professional, attire: black pumps with small heels, black pencil skirt that fell to her knees, and a black blazer over a white shirt. Her fiery red hair was tied back in a simple bun. If Kristoff had to sum up her appearance in a word, his first instinct would have been to say prudish although he knew that was a bit rude.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice," she said, extending a hand to him.

"No problem," he lied, accepting her handshake. He watched her nose wrinkle for a brief moment when her hand touched his. He felt guilty for a second; he could have at least put in the effort to take a quick shower and change out of his gear before heading up there. He must have reeked. "Sorry. I just got off of practice, and-"

"Oh, please, don't worry. I understand you're on a tight schedule. Have a seat, Mr. Bjorgman. Can I get you some water?"

"No, thank you. And please, call me Kristoff, Miss...?"

"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed, plopping back into her chair. "It's Anna. My name's Anna. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well."

"So," Anna began, flipping to a blank page on a notepad and grabbing a pen from a bright pink cup on her desk, "I'm assuming you know why you've been asked to come here?"

"For the season program, I'm guessing?"

"Yes, and for the season ticketholders' newsletter. There's also the youth hockey program to discuss, if time permits."

"Wait, wait," he interrupted. "What youth hockey program?"

"Every January, the team hosts an event here at the arena for a few lucky youth hockey players," Anna explained. "It's a workshop of sorts, but a ton of fun! The kids love it. They get to spend time with their favorite players, take pictures, maybe get a puck or poster signed, things like that. Fan Relations tries to get a few members of the team to volunteer for the event, and seeing as your coaches have spoken so highly of you, I thought you and I could talk about it later."

She said all of this very fast and with so much enthusiasm that Kristoff's head began to spin. He thought he was just there to answer a few dumb questions and have his picture taken for the program. But now she was asking for actual interaction. Kids? Workshop? _What?_

"I apologize," Anna said, seemingly sensing his discomfort. "I did not mean to overwhelm you. It's just such a wonderful event – one of my favorites of the whole season, actually – so if there's time-"

"I understand," he huffed rudely. He wasn't in the mood for small talk, especially not after that. All he had on his mind was a shower and avoiding this Anna person forever as soon as he finished the interview. "So how about those questions you have for me?"

"Oh! Right!" Anna shuffled through some papers and cleared her throat. "How long have you been playing hockey, Kristoff?"

"Since I was six. So... about eighteen years."

"Did you play in college?"

"Didn't go to college."

"How about in high school?"

"Yes."

"Did you play right wing then as well?"

"Left, actually."

"Do you want to do this another day?"

"I... wait, what?"

Anna sighed. "I can tell you aren't really interested in this. Perhaps we can finish this another day when you haven't just practiced for two hours."

"Three," he corrected. "And to be perfectly honest, interviews aren't really my thing. I mean, of course I'll do it, but I'm not sure you'll get the types of answers out of me that you're looking for. Sorry."

"That's okay," she conceded. "Another day, then?"

He wanted to roll his eyes. He'd hoped that last comment would've gotten him out of it, that it would have convinced Anna to tell Mr. Arendelle they'd tried but it didn't work out.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, another day's fine."

"Excellent," she said with a smile. Anna reached over to a short stack of what looked like white index cards, grabbed the top one, and began writing on it. "I'm going to give you my card. It has my office number and e-mail address on it. I'm writing my cell phone number on the back so you can text me if you prefer to do that. Just contact me at your earliest convenience and we can arrange a more appropriate time for this meeting. Here."

Kristoff grabbed the card and tucked it into his pocket without even glancing at it.

"Thank you," he muttered as he stood up. Anna stood, too. "I'll be in touch."

"Again, I very much appreciate your time," Anna said. "It was lovely to meet you, Kristoff. It's a shame I haven't met you until now. I don't know many of your teammates, actually. I'm kept pretty busy during the actual games. I'd love to get down there more often."

"Right," Kristoff said. "Nice meeting you. Have a good day."

"You as well."

As Kristoff left, he caught a glimpse of Anna's face. She looked discouraged, and almost sad, for just a moment before sitting back down and returning to work. He couldn't be bothered to care what she was upset about, if anything at all. He was part of the team to score goals and win games, not to satiate nosy people through interviews.

"Ah! Kristoff!"

Mr. Arendelle was making his way down the corridor. It was always strange to see him in jeans and a t-shirt instead of his typical suit and tie, but it was an off day and he was more than entitled to dress down.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Arendelle."

"Kristoff, for goodness sake, call me Adgar. You and the other guys make me feel ancient! Were you here for your program interview?"

"Yes. We rescheduled, though."

"I can see why," Mr. Arendelle laughed. "Hit the shower, Bjorgman. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

Kristoff turned to wave to the owner before leaving the administrative hall, only to see that Anna had stepped out of her office. She and Mr. Arendelle shared a brief embrace, the latter giving the other a kiss on her forehead.

This was strange to him, as it made no sense for Mr. Arendelle to show such affection to a random employee, until something clicked once Kristoff was halfway back around the concourse. The Arendelles had two daughters. The eldest, Elsa, he'd met a handful of times, for she often trained closely alongside her father. Kristoff had always assumed the youngest had wanted to pursue something outside the family business because no one had ever seen her around. Unless...

He tugged the card Anna had given to him out of his pocket, which was now creased due to the force he'd used to shove it in there. Kristoff held it up to his eyes and read the tiny print beside the Bruins logo:

_Anna Arendelle  
Boston Bruins Fan Relations  
100 Legends Way, Unit #509  
Boston, Massachusetts, 02114  
Telephone: (617) 555-5555, ext. 2446  
E-mail: *address here*_

Kristoff leaned back against the wall of the concourse. He'd essentially just blown off an interview that not only his team owner wanted him to do, but was being conducted by the owner's youngest daughter. Not to mention how unpleasant he'd been. And smelly. And unprofessional.

And she was currently talking to Mr. Arendelle himself.

"Fuck," he muttered.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So... I'm dabbling in modern AU! I never thought I'd do it, much less actually wanted to, but this idea would not go away. I might continue it. I might not. I haven't decided yet. :p If I do, though, each chapter will be told from a different character's perspective. It will likely alternate between Kristoff and Anna, but I may throw Elsa or someone else in from time to time. And I _WILL_ still be writing installments of my Kristanna canonverse collection.

Forgive the lack of e-mail on the business card. FFnet rules. Ugh.

Also, yes, I'm biased. As a Bruins fan myself, I couldn't allow Kristoff to play for anyone but Boston.

Thanks for reading! :)


	2. I Owe You

**Chapter 2: **_**I Owe You**_

_**-Anna-**_

"_You have... one... new message." BEEP!_

"Good afternoon, Ms. Arendelle. This is Kristoff. Sorry, Kristoff Bjorgman. I'm calling to reschedule that interview. If you'll be in your office tomorrow morning, I can come in, so... yeah, just give me a call back when you can. My number is-"

Anna jotted down seven digits on her nearest pad of sticky notes.

"Or you can text. Either's fine with me. And, uh... that's it. Alright, thanks. Bye."

_BEEP! "End of message. To repeat this message, press seven. To delete this mess-"_

Anna pressed four and proceeded to dial Kristoff's number. She cleared her throat as it rang. She also smoothed over her hair, though she wasn't sure why.

"Hello?" a gruff voice answered after the third ring, followed by a slight cough.

"Hello, Mr. Bjorgman?" she said in her most pleasant voice. "This is Anna from Fan Relations."

"Oh... hi. Didn't expect such a quick call back."

"Nor did I. You only left my office an hour ago."

"Well, you said my earliest convenience."

"And I very much appreciate the prompt reply!" she chirped. "Anyway, I'm calling in response to your message about continuing with the program interview tomorrow morning."

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow would be perfect! Is eight o'clock a decent time for you?"

"Eight?" he exclaimed. "Isn't that..."

His voice trailed off, and Anna thought she heard him sigh. It sounded distant, almost as if Kristoff was deliberately holding the speaker from away from his mouth, but she couldn't be too sure.

"Would another time be better?"

"Eight's fine," he said after a few seconds.

"Great!" she exclaimed a bit too loudly. "I'll make sure to have some coffee and pastries sent over."

"Oh, that's not necess-"

"No, no, it's my pleasure! I'll see you tomorrow morning!"

"Right. Bye."

"Have a wonderful day, and thank you!"

Anna waited until she heard the familiar _click!_ of the conversation coming to a close before placing her own phone down. Her smile vanished as she leaned back in her chair. She wasn't stupid; she knew perfectly well that Kristoff had zero interest in going through with the interview and was only doing so out of obligation, but couldn't he at least _pretend_ to care?

It was nothing new. After working in Fan Relations for a year, Anna should've known better. No matter how kind or enthusiastic she was, the majority of the players didn't give a damn about what she and the rest of her department put together. Interviews on the ice after the game with sports channels were different, because not only were they quick, but they were aired on television and seen by the masses. The amount of people who would visit the arena and buy the program was considerably less, and even fewer would actually read the thing.

Her father consistently told her she worked too hard and that she should take more time to herself, but she always put on her smiling face and said she loved what she did. And it was true: Anna really did love her work. She had a lot of fun organizing events and contests for the fans, especially for the games themselves; nothing warmed her heart like watching a young fan's face light up when she visited him at his seat to tell him he won a Bruins teddy bear or a signed poster. Of course, getting players up to her office to actually _sign_ things was a whole other challenge, but she kept telling herself that any job has its ups and downs.

Anna knew her father was right; she probably did spend far too much working. But what was she supposed to do? It was either go home and be alone, or stay in her office and be alone. At least there was work to do in the office, and work was a good distraction. It helped her forget... most of the time, anyway. Every once in a while as she was thinking, she caught herself bringing her right hand to her left, preparing to twist the ring on her finger in that nervous way she used to do.

She caught herself doing it again minutes after her call with Kristoff. Shaking her head, she picked up her phone again and dialed the number of the bakery. She had tomorrow to prepare for, and there was no point in waiting.

"Good afternoon. Charley's. How can I help you?" a voice asked after two rings.

"Hello," she sang happily. "I'd like to place an order for tomorrow morning."

"Ah, Miss Arendelle! The usual, I expect?"

"Yes, please, plus one additional coffee and some pastries."

"Any particular kind?"

"An assortment is fine, thank you."

"Of course. Delivery at the usual time?"

"Could I actually get it a little earlier than normal?" Anna inquired. "It's for an early meeting, so I'd need it for about 7:45, if that's okay."

"Not a problem. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Excellent. Thank you!"

As Anna hung up the phone, the thought occurred to her that Kristoff might not like sugary danishes. He was an athlete, after all. Perhaps he would have preferred a healthier option, like the multigrain bagel she always ordered for herself. That wasn't a nutritionist's dream, either, but it sure was better than a pastry.

_You're overthinking things, like always,_ she thought to herself. _Stop worrying._

True to character, she ignored herself and redialed Charley's.

"Hi, sorry, it's Anna Arendelle again. I just called about tomorrow morning... yes... I was wondering if I could add to tomorrow's order... just another bagel... no, make that two more, just in case... yes... great! Thank you!"

* * *

At 7:58 the following morning, Kristoff stepped into the Fan Relations office. Anna, just like she did the previous day, practically jumped out of her chair to greet him.

"It's a pleasure to see you again! Please, have a seat, and feel free to help yourself to some breakfast," she added, gesturing to the tray on a table near the wall.

"You have an awful lot of energy for such an early hour," he groggily commented.

"I get the feeling you're not usually up this early on a day off."

"Usually, no."

"Here, this may help." Anna grabbed the second cup of coffee she ordered and placed it on her desk in front of him. "This is for you. Cream and sugar?"

"No, but thank you."

"Alright, then!" she announced. "I guess we should get started. Do you mind if we start over? I mean, we didn't get very far yesterday, so-"

"That's fine," Kristoff agreed, taking a slow sip from his cup. "Mm. Good coffee. Thank you."

"Glad you like it. So, Mr. Bjorgman-"

"Kristoff," he corrected her.

"Right. Sorry. Kristoff," she began, pen in hand and notepad ready, "I remember yesterday you said that you did not play hockey in college, right?"

"Right, because I didn't go."

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

"Wasn't for lack of trying. I applied to a few places. Didn't get into some, got accepted into others. Though the ones that did accept me denied me financial aid, so they may as well have just declined my applications."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. She felt herself blush as she remembered her framed degree hanging on the wall directly behind her. "I'll... um, just leave the part about college out of the program. How about high school? You played there?"

"Left wing, mostly," he said with a nod. "I dabbled in everything, though. I've played center and defense. Tried my hand at goaltending a few times, too."

"Yet you settled on right wing for your NHL career."

"Yes. And before you ask, it's for no reason other than that's what they wanted me for. I would have played anything, to be honest."

Anna smiled and nodded. "You just love the game."

"Yeah," he said, shrugging. "There's never been anything else I was good at, really."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well, there's not a whole lot to do up north," he defended. "There's hockey, hunting, and hiking. I was never really one for hunting, and... well, I do enjoy hiking, I'll admit."

"Where are you from, exactly?" Anna inquired.

"New Hampshire. A little town called Franconia."

"Never heard of it."

"It's near Lincoln."

"Oh! Lincoln! I've been there!" Anna exclaimed. "A cousin had a wedding there a few years ago. It's a gorgeous area!"

"Yeah, it's nice."

"So you're from right in the middle of the mountains, then!" She leaned back in her chair and grinned. "Wow. What a place to grow up. Could you tell me a little more about it?"

"Nah. It wasn't as amazing as it sounds."

"Oh, I doubt that!" she said. "Don't forget, this is for the program, and what fans really want to read about is... well, _you_. They want to get to know the players as people, and believe it or not, Fan Relations has received a lot of fan mail about you. Of course, I don't want you to feel obligated to talk about anything you're uncomfortable sharing, but-"

"That's not the problem," he argued, rolling his eyes. "Look, Ms. Arendelle-"

"Anna."

"Anna," Kristoff amended. "I told you yesterday that I'm not one for interviews, and it's because I can't give the answers you want. I know what these programs are for; fans want to read uplifting stories about their favorite players, but I'm not going to lie to you. There's nothing glorious about me. I never knew my father. My mother died when I was young. Cancer. I got stuck in the foster system and was bullied as a kid. I played hockey because I was good at it. Violent as it could get, there was something about being on the ice that brought me peace."

Anna stared at him as her stomach twisted itself into a thousand knots, mouth slightly agape. It was rare for her to be at a loss of words, but she could not muster up a single thing to say to the man sitting across from her desk. Why had she been so pushy?

The previous day, she'd assumed Kristoff was just an average jerk, and now she felt guilty for it. The guy was just beaten down and grumpy about it, and rightfully so.

"So," he continued, "it's not because I'm uncomfortable discussing it, but rather because no one would want to read it. People don't read programs for depressing tales."

"I... I'm sorry," she breathed. "Mr. Bjorgman... Kristoff, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know."

"No one really does. It's okay. Really. Don't worry about it."

"I won't publish this, okay?"

"I honestly don't care if you do."

"But-"

"Anna," he said, "you needed three players. You can use what I said, or you can make something up for my page. Unless you have more things to ask me?"

Anna swallowed hard and shook her head.

"No, no, that's all." It actually wasn't; she did, in fact, have a list of potential questions, but she'd opened up enough wounds for one day.

"Do you need a picture, or...?"

"We'll just use an action shot from a game last season," she said. "No new photograph is necessary."

"Alright, then. I guess I'll see you around the arena."

"I do hope so." Anna stood and held out her hand. "Thank you again, Kristoff. I owe you one."

He accepted her handshake, but shook his head. "You don't owe me anything. I was happy to do it."

"No, you weren't."

"True." She saw his mouth curve a hint upward; it was the closest she'd ever come to seeing him smile.

"But really," she continued, "I know nobody likes doing these things, and you came in so early to help me out, and on your day off, no less... so, yeah. I owe you a favor. If there's anything you need, just let me know. You know where to find me."

"Thanks," he mumbled. "Have a nice day."

"You, too."

Anna sat back down as he headed out, only to look up once he called her name from the doorway.

"Anna?"

"Yes?"

"There is something you could do for me."

She nodded. "Name it."

"Do you have any control over the music played during the games?"

"Um..." She didn't know what she was expecting him to ask for, but she knew that wasn't it. "I don't, but I know the person who does. Why?"

"Any chance something other than _Dirty Water_ can be played after we win games?"

"Well, Kristoff," she said, unable to help laughing a little, "that song's kind of a tradition around here. I'm not sure eliminating it would go over very well with the fans."

"Fair enough," he conceded. "How about a Rolling Stones song sometime during the home opener, then?"

Anna smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

As he headed out, Anna looked at her notepad, only to realize she hadn't written a single thing down during the interview. Not that she'd needed to; she wasn't likely to forget the things he told her. She drummed her fingers against her desk. He'd said to go ahead and use it, but she couldn't bring herself to do that. She had her own demons, too, and heaven knew how she'd feel if those got released to the public...

She glanced down at her left hand, shook the thoughts away, and turned to her computer to throw herself back in to work. She'd figure something out; she always did. Out of the corner of her eye, Anna caught a glimpse of the breakfast tray from Charley's. Two pastries were missing.

She wasn't sure why that made her so happy.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah, I rushed through this one. Sorry. :p But I'm not bored with this story yet, so until that happens, I guess I'll keep going!

Thanks for reading!


	3. Home Opener

**Chapter 3: **_**Home Opener**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

"…and the home of the brave!"

The sold-out arena erupted in boisterous applause as the national anthem came to a close. Between the crowd and the music blasting from the speakers, Kristoff could barely hear his own thoughts as he took his place on the ice, not that there was really all that much to think about. The puck would likely be coming to him if Dimitri Mateev, the team's forward, won the face-off (and he usually did). All Kristoff had to do was focus and wait.

It was the first game of the season, and the team's first official game since being eliminated from the second round of the playoffs in May. The Penguins were visiting from Pittsburgh, and if the previous season was any indication, a win for the Bruins wouldn't come easily. Kristoff, however, was optimistic. Their playoff loss had been devastating and they had a lot to prove.

Once the puck dropped and Dimitri, as expected, won the face-off, the game began and it felt like they'd never left, like there hadn't been a gap between seasons at all. Kristoff wasn't complaining; he'd missed it. He'd missed the roar of the fans and even the scattered booing from supporters of the visiting team. He'd missed the coaches shouting orders at him and the rest of the guys from the box and the muffled swearing he heard when nearing an opponent. He'd missed the blaring sound of the horn when their team scored, which was music to his ears when Miles Langlois got the first goal of the game seven minutes in. Nothing gave them confidence like drawing first blood.

What Kristoff had missed the most, however, was the game itself. It was the slosh of the ice as he pivoted his skates to make sharp turns, the clatter of wood as sticks battled for the puck, the thunder of thick glass when a player got slammed into the wall. It reminded him of all those times during his youth when he got to upstage the guys who gave him a hard time. What made the game so special to him was it didn't matter who was born into wealth or not. Popularity was irrelevant. On the ice, they were equals. All that counted was skill and teamwork, and they all had a fair chance at getting ahead. Hockey was the only thing that had ever afforded him such an opportunity.

He focused on nothing but the game until about midway through the second period. It was a commercial break for home viewers; the ice cleaning crew was skating around with their shovels, so he was taking a break on the bench. Kristoff never went out of his way to look up at the jumbotron, but he happened to catch a familiar face on the giant screen as he tilted his head back to take a large gulp of water.

Anna looked different than she had the two times he met her in her office. Instead of business attire, she was dressed in jeans and a replica jersey, and her hair was in two braids rather than a bun. She was in the stands, clutching a teddy bear, and yammering something into a microphone about a junior fan of the game.

"Oi! Bjorgman!" He felt a nudge on his upper arm.

"Huh?"

"I said I think we should wrap around the other way next time. Aim for the left, you know?" Troy Pavalov said. "What do you think?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sounds good."

Troy followed Kristoff's eyes up to the jumbotron.

"Who's that?"

"Anna. She's from Fan Relations."

"You know her?"

"Yeah. Er, not really," Kristoff amended. "She had to interview me for the program a couple weeks ago."

"She's cute."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Bullshit," Troy laughed. "C'mon, time to go."

Kristoff rolled his eyes as Troy hopped over the wall and back onto the ice. He watched Anna hand off the teddy bear to a beaming young boy.

"Congratulations to Tyler," she chanted with a smile, "and let's go Bruins!"

Kristoff had to admit she had a nice smile. Maybe she was a_ little_ cute. Shaking his head, he put his mouth guard back in place and joined the offensive line.

* * *

Anna wandered into his mind one more time throughout the course of the game. At the beginning of the third period, Kristoff got involved in a bit of a scuffle with one of Pittsburgh's defensemen. The guy started mouthing off and shoving him into the glass long after a play had ended, so Kristoff retaliated with a swing to the guy's shoulder, much to the delight of the fans. They cheered as fists flew and went completely wild when Kristoff tackled the Penguin to the ice. As they both got escorted by referees to their respective penalty boxes, _Street Fighting Man _began to play overhead, and Kristoff smirked.

_Thanks, Anna_, he thought. He'd completely forgotten about requesting a song.

In the end, the Bruins won the game three goals to two. As the familiar victory tune of _Dirty Water_ echoed through the arena, Kristoff headed straight for the locker room like always. He was fairly certain the sports reporters wouldn't have wanted to interview him, anyway. They were usually only interested in the players who'd scored; while Kristoff had assisted a couple of the goals, none of them had actually been his. Upon arriving at his locker, he immediately began pulling off his helmet and skates. He was soon joined by Dimitri Mateev as the rest of the team started to pile in.

"Nice checking on Smith," Dimitri laughed, sitting beside him on the bench and beginning to unlace his skates. "That guy's such an asshole."

"Thanks."

Of all the guys on the team, Dimitri was the only one Kristoff considered to be a friend. It wasn't that Kristoff didn't get along with the rest of them, but Dimitri was a bit more reserved and quiet, much like himself. He didn't talk much. Kristoff liked that.

"Who'd they end up getting for the postgame talk?" Kristoff asked as he yanked off his jersey.

"Miles. Who else?"

He should've known better. Miles Langlois was the only teammate Kristoff had ever considered punching in the face. He was one hell of a player, but he was as arrogant as one man could get, the stereotypical jock. It didn't help that he was the nephew of the great Bobby Clarke; he'd made sure to point it out on random occasions.

"So," Jeff Wyatt casually announced to the group as they ridded themselves of their gear, "how about that girl behind the glass, eh? Right behind our bench?"

"The blonde one? Big tits?"

"That's the one."

The locker room was filled with happy murmuring and a couple of whistles. Kristoff and Dimitri, as always, didn't participate. Dimitri was married and had an excuse, but Kristoff was bound to get some razzing.

"What'd you think, Bjorgman?" That didn't take long.

"I didn't notice," he mumbled. He honestly hadn't.

"Ah, c'mon, Bjorgman!"

"Leave him be," Troy chimed in with a smirk. "Bjorgman was too busy checking out the Fan Relations chick."

"Who?"

"I wasn't _checking her out_," Kristoff defended. "I just happened to look up and she was there. No big deal."

"Yeah, yeah," Troy egged on. Kristoff really did like Troy. The guy meant well, but sometimes he just couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Keep telling yourself that. I'm sure she's still around here somewhere. Go find her and try to score a date."

"Try to score a date with who?" Miles had showed up in all his smug glory, helmet tucked beneath his arm and holding his head a bit too high.

"Bjorgman's got it bad for the Fan Relations girl."

"Shut it, will you? I do not."

"Who, Anna?" Miles inquired, completely ignoring Kristoff and taking a sip from his water bottle. "I fucking hate that girl."

"Why?" Kristoff asked.

"Wait, you know her, too? How does everyone know her except me?" Troy playfully whined.

"Trust me, you don't _want_ to know her," Miles said. "She had to interview me for the program. Most annoying girl I've ever met."

_Typical Miles_, Kristoff thought. _Always blowing things out of proportion. _

Kristoff admittedly hadn't liked Anna all that much himself, but he hardly considered her annoying. If he had to give her a word, he thought _intense _was far better suited for her. Overenthusiastic, even. Bubbly. Eager. All were traits he didn't really care for, so… okay, perhaps she was a _tiny_ bit annoying. However, she was polite and seemed to truly care about the people she encountered. That alone, in his opinion, made her unworthy of hate; such genuine kindness was difficult to come by.

"I will say, though," Miles continued, "she's got an amazing ass. And that hair… _damn_."

"Blonde?" one of the guys asked.

"Nah. Red."

There was a loud cheer from several of the guys upon the announcement of Anna's hair color, followed by a few provocative comments.

"Ah, she's a ginger?! I've got to see this girl! Gotta check her out!"

"Bet she's a wild one!"

"Man, have you ever been with a ginger? It's like sticking it in a volcano!"

"You guys know she's Arendelle's daughter, right?" Kristoff blurted out.

"Bullshit! His daughter's that blonde who never smiles."

"He has two daughters, dumbass."

"Why would an Arendelle be working in Fan Relations? They're richer than God. Don't be ridiculous."

"Not being ridiculous. Her name is Anna Arendelle."

"It's true," Dimitri interjected, coming to Kristoff's aid. "She's Adgar's youngest."

"Whatever," Miles huffed, backing off the topic.

Kristoff smirked. Dimitri was the only one who could put Miles in his place and shut him up; there was certainly a reason he was the team's captain. He was in his seventh year on a relatively young team, making him one of the veterans and very much respected.

"Anyway, nice playing out there tonight, guys," Miles announced. "Let's keep it up tomorrow!"

There was murmuring and cheering amongst the team, and all the chatter about Anna and the chesty blonde was quickly forgotten. Kristoff grabbed his change of clothes and was about to head for the shower when Dimitri grabbed his arm.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice low, "is she really Arendelle's daughter?"

"I think so. If not his daughter, then maybe a niece."

"She pretty?"

Kristoff considered the question for a moment. Anna did have a pleasant smile that would have been infectious were he not such a grump. She had blue eyes that seemed to have a permanent twinkle and her freckles did have a certain charm to them. He really did like her hair, too. And as he realized how many of her features were vividly imprinted on his memory after only a handful a brief sights, he figured that was his answer right there.

"She's certainly not ugly," Kristoff admitted.

"Nice," Dimitri said with a grin. "See you tomorrow."

"See you."

* * *

Kristoff felt better after a long, cool shower. As always, he lingered for far too long; Andre Lukska, the goaltender, was the only one left in the locker room once Kristoff finally stepped out, and he was about to head out.

"A few of us are gonna be at Four's," Andre said. "A few celebratory beers are in order. You coming along?"

"Not this time. Thanks, though."

"Suit yourself. Have a good one."

Kristoff finished dressing, shoved his feet into his sneakers, and left the locker room. Instead of going out the back exit, however, he went up to the main concourse. He did this after games occasionally; sometimes he liked to walk through fan territory, though he wasn't sure why. The concourse was empty at that point, save for a few workers who were shutting down the concession stands and cleaning the floors. One of them tried to give him a warm pretzel, but he insisted on paying for it; he gave the girl a ten and told her to keep the change.

He was about to pass one of the two Pro Shops on his way out the door, but something caught his eye. Among the team apparel, toys, and other memorabilia on display in the window, there was a rack of Season Programs. His curiosity got the best of him and he stepped into the shop; he had to check it out. Had Anna published the truth, made something up, or completely disregarded him?

"I'm sorry, Sir," the lone employee still there began, "but we're just about… ah! Mr. Bjorgman! It's an honor!"

"Sorry," Kristoff said. "I just wanted to have a look at the program. May I? I'll be quick, I promise."

"Of course, of course!" the man sang. "Take all the time you want! Just holler if you need me."

Kristoff mumbled a quick thank-you before snagging a program off the rack. He flipped through a couple pages of advertisements hoping to find a table of contents, but there was no such luck. He turned the pages and quickly scanned each one in an attempt to find his interview. He found Miles's first, and he rolled his eyes upon seeing that it came to two-and-a-half pages long, and that wasn't even counting his photograph. Kristoff snorted at the irony of Miles calling Anna annoying; she must have wanted to stab her own eardrums after listening to that jackass boast about himself.

The second interview he came across was from Andre, and his was much more modest: one page of text, and a full page photo accompanying it. As Kristoff neared the end of the program, he began to think that Anna had tossed him out. He really didn't care, but was rather annoyed that he'd wasted his time doing the interview to begin with. Then, when there couldn't have been more than five pages left, he found it:

**Getting to know… KRISTOFF BJORGMAN, #23  
**

_Position: Right Wing  
Height: 5' 11"  
__Weight: 187  
__Shoots: Right  
__Born: May 18  
__Age: 24_

_The star wingman hails from the small town of Franconia, New Hampshire, where he developed a love of hockey at a young age. Playing since the age of six, Kristoff has undertaken every position on the ice at some point in his life, making him a valuable asset to both the offensive and defensive lines here in Boston._

_While hockey is his true passion, Kristoff also has a fondness for hiking. He spent much of his youth climbing in the White Mountains where he grew up. A loner by choice, he enjoys the tranquility and solitude the peaks have to offer._

_Kristoff proved himself a force to be reckoned with in his rookie season with Boston, scoring a total of thirty-four goals, including two hat tricks, and assisting forty-two. We're bound to see great things from him during his second year with the team._

He couldn't help but smile slightly. Anna hadn't published his pathetic little story. Kristoff knew he'd told her he wouldn't care if she did, but he discovered he was happy she hadn't. He was a very private person and didn't like airing his dirty laundry out in the open for all to see.

"How'd I do?" came a voice suddenly from behind him. He jumped slightly, turning to see a grinning, freckled face.

"Oh. Hey," he murmured, sheepishly closing the program.

"Sorry," Anna said. "I had to put a sponsor's ad next to your picture to fill up the page. I hope you aren't offended."

"Not at all. I didn't really give you much to go on."

"Yeah. I did have to fluff it up a bit…"

"You… you did well," Kristoff admitted.

"Even the bit about hiking? I just sort of assumed you were a loner."

"And you were right."

"I figured."

"Thanks, by the way," he added. "For not… you know. I mean, you could have, and I wouldn't have minded, but-"

"It was no problem at all," Anna said, cheeks pinkening. "I… I didn't feel comfortable writing that. It seemed too personal. And I did kind of put you on the spot."

"And thanks for the song."

"Sorry?"

"The song," he reminded her. "During the game?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, laughing. "I forgot about that! It was no problem! Of course now I'm realizing that I should have included the fact that you're a Stones fan on your page. It would have taken up some room!"

"I'm actually not," he confessed. "I mean, they're alright, but they were just the first band that popped into my head at the time."

"Well then," Anna said, "I guess that means I still owe you a favor."

"Really, it's okay. You never owed me anything to begin with."

"Nonsense! We'll figure something out! I'll settle this debt eventually."

Kristoff chuckled and shook his head. He was learning fast there was no point in arguing with that girl. He vaguely wondered if Miles and Andre were told they were owed favors, too.

"Hello, Anna!" called the man who worked in the shop. He was waddling over and waving.

"Hi, Oaken. I just stopped in to see if you need any help closing up?"

"I'm all set, thanks. You work too much, Miss! Go home and take some time for yourself!"

"I really _should _head out," she hummed, glancing at her watch. "I've been here since ten."

"That's nearly fourteen hours," Kristoff proclaimed. "Get out of here!"

"I am," Anna laughed. "Have a good night. Great job tonight, and good luck tomorrow! See you around! 'Night, Oaken!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"Goodnight, Miss!"

Kristoff watched Anna leave. He couldn't help himself: he took a quick glance at her bum, and reluctantly admitted Miles had been quite right.

"You going to take that?" Oaken asked, gesturing to the program Kristoff was still holding.

"Oh, um…" Kristoff glanced down at his hands. He'd only planned on skimming through it, but he actually liked that article about him, even if only because it proved not everyone was a jackass willing to exploit people for a reaction. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll take it. How much?"

As he reached into his pocket for his wallet, Oaken held up a hand.

"No charge, Sir."

"Oh, no, I can't take it. Let me-"

"Sir, I've already balanced the register and locked up the tray," Oaken said. "Please, just take it. I don't want to recount it."

"Alright. Thank you."

"Now, I hate to kick you out, but I have to close up. Best of luck in the game tomorrow!"

"Thanks. Nice meeting you. 'Night."

Once out on the platform waiting for the train, he mindlessly opened to a random page in the program, scowling when he saw Miles's face. He narrowed his eyes, however, when he looked closely at the end of his teammate's interview:

_Written by Marcy Dubois, Fan Relations_

This was strange to him, seeing as Anna had, as far as he knew, conducted all three interviews. Curious, he flipped to Andre's and found that his, too, had been written by this Marcy woman. Kristoff kept turning the pages until he found his own again, smiling at the words below it:

_Written by Anna Arendelle, Fan Relations_

She may have done the questioning for all three, but she had only penned his. He liked to think it was because she didn't trust anyone else with handling his story delicately. Was he overthinking it? Probably. But it was nice knowing that someone cared.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay! I hope to get to Chapter Four much faster. Also, I should probably mention that the next couple of chapters give a bit of insight into Anna's past, and it's... well, it's not entirely pleasant. Just a warning.

Thanks for reading! :)


	4. The Rangers

**Chapter 4: **_**The Rangers**_

_**-Anna-**_

Upon spotting her father entering the restaurant, Anna nearly jumped out of her chair and waved him over. She beamed when he spotted her and began to weave through the other tables.

"Oh!" she gasped he got closer; he was holding a bouquet of pink roses.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he said, pulling her in for a hug. "I'm sorry we're doing this so late."

"It's no problem!" Anna assured him. "It's only a couple of days. Thank you so much for the flowers."

Her father had been traveling with the team for the last several days during their first stretch of away games, and she'd missed him dearly. She'd missed the whole team, actually. Although she didn't work directly with the players, their presence at the arena made things much more interesting. Work got lonely and boring fast when the team was away; there wasn't much to do in Fan Relations during their absence.

He told her all about the away games as they waited for their orders to be taken. Anna, of course, had watched them all on television, but hearing the details from her father was always better. She loved his analysis of plays and his rants when he thought one of their guys had been the victim of an unfair call. Sometimes he came home with rumors he'd heard from other owners about potential trades or management shifts.

"So," he said after their waitress had come and gone, "I have something to share with you. An idea of sorts. I'd like your opinion."

"Sure."

"While we were in Toronto, I couldn't help but notice how many of the fans in the arena were dressed in our colors," he said. "They were greatly outnumbered, of course, but there were a lot more than I would have expected. Same in Montreal and Columbus. We really do have a lot of fans all over the country, or _countries_, I should say."

"Okay," Anna said slowly, not quite getting the point.

"So I had a thought. Your department does so much for the fans at home, all those fantastic raffles and whatnot. You all do such wonderful work."

"Thanks," she mumbled. She could feel the pink tint rising in her cheeks.

"But what about our fans elsewhere?" he continued. "I think it's important that we include them somehow, too."

"I agree, but how? I mean, it's not like we can hold contests for Bruins fans on other teams' home turf. That would be disrespectful."

"Oh, no, nothing like that," her father corrected. "But we do have our website. Now, I know this isn't really my area of expertise, so please feel free to tell me if this is an awful idea. I was thinking we could add a road blog of sorts. Talk to Bruins fans before they enter the arena at away games, so that way it wouldn't stomp on the home team. Ask them why they're fans of our team even if they live elsewhere, you know? We can ask what makes them stick with us even after they've left the area. What do you think? I mean, it'd be more work for your department, but-"

"I love it!" Anna exclaimed.

"Really?"

"Yes! We could make quick little videos before each game, like the ones on the news! Oh, and we could hand out memorabilia, too! Little things, of course, but something to offer as a way of thanking them for participating."

"So this is something you'd be able to put together?"

"Absolutely. But," she asked, "who's going to do the actual interviewing? You'll be too busy before the games."

"Well, I thought about that, too," he said with a smile. "Of course, out of fairness, we'd have to offer the opportunity to your entire department. But seeing as Marcy and Rich and everyone all have children at home, I imagine they won't be up for frequent traveling. So…"

Anna raised her eyebrows and her mouth dropped open a little.

"You… you're not actually suggesting… you want _me_ to travel with you and the team? _Me?_"

"Like I said, we'll have to offer it to everyone," he repeated, "but if they decline – and I have a feeling they will – then yes. You already have a passport, so Canada won't be a problem, and you do such great work for the team already. I think you'd be the perfect person to take this on, if you want to."

"Oh, my god!" she squealed. She jumped out of her chair and hopped to the other side of the table to embrace her father. "Thank you! Thank you so much! This could be so much fun!"

"You're most welcome."

Anna leaned back in her chair, smiling from ear to ear. She'd only traveled with her father to away games a handful of times, but those were when she was younger and well before she began working for the team. The thought of having an actual purpose for traveling alongside him and the team was exciting. For her whole life, all she wanted to do was be involved in any way possible; if this new project panned out, she knew she'd truly feel like she was part of it all.

"What?" she asked. She caught her father staring at her moments later with a small smile on his face.

"Nothing," he hummed, shaking his head. "I'm just so proud of you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at you, sweetheart," he laughed. "You're twenty-two, already finished with college, and making it on your own."

"Dad..."

"And after everything that happened last year…" His voice trailed off and he looked away for a moment, and Anna could feel a lump form in her throat. "Well, you've come a long way. You've really turned things around for yourself, Anna. I can tell how much happier and healthier you are."

"Thanks." He had a point. She knew she was doing better. _Much_ better.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

Anna sighed. For the first time that day, she glanced down at her left hand. Even fourteen months later, the absence of the diamond ring sent her into panic mode sometimes; for a split second, she would think she lost it or allowed it to fall down the drain while washing her hands. The concern never lasted long.

"We just grew apart," she said with a shrug. It was partially true. She'd never tell her parents the entire truth. Hell, not even Elsa knew everything.

Her father nodded. "I know how hard it was for you to deal with, and… well, I'm just so happy to see how far you've come, that's all. You're doing so well."

"Yeah," Anna said, nodding. "Yeah, I am, aren't I?"

"You going to be okay with the Rangers coming in this weekend?"

Anna's breath hitched. She'd forgotten about that. If she played her cards right, though, she wouldn't even have to see him, much less interact with him.

"I'll be fine. Promise."

"Good," he chanted. "Let's just enjoy this meal. It looks fantastic!"

Anna looked down at the table; she hadn't even noticed their lunches had been delivered.

"Oh, it does! Mm!"

"Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad."

Anna was slightly melancholy as she spread out her napkin onto her lap and grab her cutlery. She thought about her former fiancée far more often than she should've, but she couldn't help it. There were times she missed him. She remembered all the sweet things he would do for her, the trips they went on, the romantic moments they shared… he was her first and only love, after all.

Then, as she looked down at her plate, she reminded herself it was for the best. _Toxic_ had been the word Elsa used to describe the relationship, and Anna knew she'd been right. After all, if that ring were still on her finger, Anna would've never been able to bring herself to eat the steak and potatoes in front of her, or at least not without feeling guilty.

As she took the first bite and the tender, seasoned meat touched her tongue, she knew without a doubt that the end had been a good thing.

* * *

Anna hid in her office on the day the New York Rangers were due to arrive in Boston. Her plan was to work nonstop until the game began, and even then she would only emerge when she had to. There was a small television in the Fan Relations office, anyway; she could watch the majority of the game there.

It was hardly a foolproof plan. She should've known he would find her. It was nearing six o'clock, an hour before the puck dropped, when she heard someone greet her from the doorway.

"Hello, Anna."

Her eyes shot up from her computer screen, and there he was. He didn't look much different. His hair was still styled in a wave and he was wearing a suit. He did look a little paler, but to be fair, it had been a couple months since they'd had a long stretch of sunny weather.

"Hans," she said. "Good evening."

She'd been praying he wouldn't be there that night, seeing as he really had no reason to be. It was his father who owned the Rangers, not Hans, and she was pretty sure one of his twelve older brothers was poised to inherit the team eventually.

"Do you have a minute?"

Anna eyed her clock. Truthfully, she had several minutes to spare; she'd been doing the most trivial and useless tasks for the last two hours and really could've used a break. But…

"I have a few things to prepare for the game, and I'm sure you do, too."

"You were never a very good liar, Anna," he laughed. "Mind if I sit down?"

Anna sighed quietly. She'd dated Hans for two years, and was even engaged to him for a good bit of that time. It had been well over a year since things ended, and she'd buried the hatchet a while ago. Surely it wouldn't kill her to make small talk. Content with that decision, she gestured toward the chair in front of her desk.

"You look great," he said.

"Thank you."

"So… Fan Relations," he said with a smile. "Wow. When did that happen?"

"I helped out here and there last season," Anna answered, "but now I'm here permanently. It's a good fit for me, I think."

"I can tell. I saw one of the programs. Did you put all that together?"

"I had a hand in it, yes." She'd actually done the bulk of the work on that particular project, but she wasn't about to brag.

"It looked wonderful. Really. Well done."

"Thank you." Anna wasn't sure why she was blushing, but she could feel the slight heat rising in her cheeks. She wasn't accustomed to being showered with compliments, and Hans was the last person she would have expected them to come from considering how things ended between them.

"So how are things with you, Anna?" he inquired. "I see you finished up school."

"Magna cum laude," she confirmed. It was one of the few accomplishments she was proud of. "And… well, I'm great. Really. Everything's going very well. How about you? How are you now that you've finished school?"

"Excellent. I'm thinking of going back."

"Doctorate?"

"Yeah, right," he laughed. "Me? A Doctorate? No way. Second Master's. I'm looking into some schools out west."

"That's an interesting change of direction."

"Well, I'm just looking. I'm not even sure I'm going to go for it. Even if I do, I might just stay in New York. I don't care much for being away from home."

Anna was about to bring up the two years that he spent at school in Boston – two years that he spent with _her_ – but she decided not to comment on it.

"But it's really good to see you, Anna. I'm so glad to see you're doing alright."

"You too, Hans."

His green eyes were piercing holes into her, and she had to look away. As much as she wanted to loathe him, she couldn't deny that he was handsome and charming. The distance had been key in her getting over him; she couldn't allow one adoring gaze to unravel everything.

_You're so quick to love, Anna_, Elsa had said. _You've got to be careful. _

She knew her sister had been right, and she knew she was weak. She was working on that, but… Hans had been the only one who ever loved her.

_No, Anna_, she thought. _Stop it. That wasn't love, remember? That was… well, it wasn't love. Change the subject. Make him uncomfortable. Get him OUT._

"How's Evelyn?" she asked bluntly.

She almost smirked as she saw Hans very obviously tense up. He let out a long breath and shrugged.

"We're… well, things didn't work out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she lied.

"How about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

"Yes." She said this smoothly, but it was another lie. She'd gone on a couple of dates in the months since she and Hans broke up, but nothing ever came of them. Sometimes, she wondered if she'd be alone forever.

"That's too bad," Hans murmured.

"Sorry?"

"Would I be crossing the line if I told you I miss you?"

Anna drew in a sharp breath and gazed down in her lap. She wanted to cry. What was he playing at?

"_You're_ the one who left _me_, Hans," Anna choked out. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"I haven't, and believe me when I say I made the worst mistake of my life when I did that."

"Perhaps," she said slowly, "but what's done is done."

"Look, I know you're with someone," he continued, "and I know I have no business asking, but would you like to meet for an early lunch tomorrow? My flight doesn't leave until three."

"Like you just said, Hans, I'm with someone."

"I know, but I don't mean as a date. I just want to talk. I miss talking with you, Anna. Don't you miss the fun we had together?"

Anna sighed. Truthfully, she did. She missed lots of things about him. She reluctantly looked up at him, and upon seeing his gaze, she was reminded of the wonderful man he could be. Caring, considerate, generous, doting, reliable, kind… he had the potential to be all of those things and more. She'd seen it herself.

And for a moment, she was nearly fooled.

"I'll think about it," she said. "I'll let you know after the game, okay?"

"That's fair," he agreed. He rose from his chair, spotting the bowl of Hershey Kisses on her desk. He grabbed one and began to unwrap it. "You'll want to be careful with these."

"What do you mean?"

"You have such a beautiful face, Anna," he said as he tossed the wrapper into the nearby trashcan. He then looked directly at her. "You don't want it getting chubby."

Anna felt her stomach leap into her throat as he popped the candy into his mouth.

"See you tomorrow," he sang confidently.

As he left the office, Anna allowed a lone tear to fall. One stupid comment was all it had taken to remind her of why their breakup had been a blessing in disguise. All at once, she felt her insecurities flying back to her in full force – the insecurities she'd fought _so hard_ to rid herself of. She felt the shame, guilt, and self-loathing, all of which were unwarranted, yet powerful enough to make her second guess the last fourteen months.

_No_, Anna thought. _It's not true. None of it is true. He's an asshole. He's a cruel, arrogant asshole, and you know better now, Anna. Don't believe him. Don't listen to him. He's not worth it. You're doing so much better. You're healthy now. You're happy. Don't allow him to ruin that for you. Don't. Don't…_

Against her better judgement, she carried the bowl of candy to the trashcan and dumped them all, and she hated that he still had such power over her, even after all that time.

_You're so pathetic, Anna._

Shaking the thoughts and tears away, she went to the nearby closet to get her attire for the game. Emotional or not, she had a job to do. There were raffle tickets to be drawn and signed pucks to be distributed. Maybe it would help take her mind off things.

For the first time in a while, it didn't.

* * *

When the game went into overtime, the team's first of the season, Anna decided not to stick around and watch. Her work was done, anyway. She didn't even bother to put her Bruins sweatshirt back in the closet once back in the office, instead only grabbing her purse and keys before hitting the lights.

"Heading out so soon?" Oaken asked as she walked by the shop. "This is quite the game! Can you believe Bjorgman tied it up? What a shot!"

"Yeah," Anna said. "Yeah, I'm just not feeling so well."

"Alright. You go rest up. 'Night."

"'Night, Oaken."

She hadn't been lying; she really did feel like shit, but it was nothing medicine could cure. All Anna wanted to do was take a warm bath, get into her favorite pajamas, and go to sleep for a very long time. Morning would come, and she could start fresh. She could forget she ever saw Hans.

It seemed like she was being mocked by the heavens when she rounded the last corner before the exit. There was a group of men in suits and one woman in a skirt and blouse. Hans was the only one she recognized, so she figured they were all from New York. She didn't even bother trying to listen to what they were saying; all she could focus on was Hans's arm around the woman's waist.

The woman was a little heavy. Heavier than Anna had ever been, anyway. After all that teasing, taunting, _shaming_ he'd done to her...

She wanted to vomit.

Anna spun on her heel to take the long way out. As she walked, she considered a new plan. She wouldn't go home right away. Instead, she'd head to Four's. With the game not over yet, she had a chance to get there before the crowds showed up. She could get a seat by herself in the corner, and with any luck, she'd be plastered by the time the game ended.

_Alone_. Given her track record, it seemed fitting, and it was getting to the point where it didn't even phase her anymore.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know, I know... no actual Kristanna interaction in this chapter, but this one is sort-of bridging the gap. Chapter 5 will make up for it, I promise; they'll be together for most of it. :)

Also, sorry if the Anna/Hans history was a little vague. That was deliberate. More will be revealed as the story goes on. (And just so we're clear, what Anna thought about Hans's lady friend wasn't meant to be malicious. If it doesn't make sense now, it will later. Promise!)

Thanks for reading!


	5. Anna's Place

**Chapter 5: **_**Anna's Place**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

Win or lose, home or away, Kristoff never cared for going out for drinks after a game. He'd done it a handful of times the previous season, and those instances had been enough. The bars were always noisy and chaotic; while beers were very much welcome after games, Kristoff much preferred to enjoy them in the solitude of his own apartment, or his hotel room if they were on the road. That night, however, he couldn't avoid it. After tying up the game at the end of the third with his first goal of the season, Kristoff managed to score again in overtime to secure a win for the Bruins. His teammates had insisted on celebrating, and since they were buying, he wasn't about to complain.

After showering and changing into jeans and a sweatshirt, Kristoff left the arena and kept his head down as he crossed the street to Four's. The place was already packed when he got there, as expected, but he found the rest of the team right away as they blew his cover.

"BJORGMAN! Over here!"

"There he is! Man of the hour!"

"For he's a jolly good fellooooow!" That was Troy, already toasted.

Thanks to them, all the fans in the bar took notice of him stepping through the doorway. None of them asked for autographs, for which Kristoff was very much appreciative, but they all wanted to shake his hand or pat him on the shoulder as he squeezed his way through the crowd. He only had to endure one selfie along the way. Once he made it to the team, Miles shoved an opened Sam Adams into his hand, and Kristoff quickly took a large swig.

"I gotta say, man," Miles exclaimed, throwing an arm around Kristoff's shoulders, "I know we don't always see eye to eye, but that was one hell of a game you played out there."

"Thanks."

Miles lifted his beer. "Bjorgman!"

The other guys reciprocated. "Bjorgman!"

After bottles clinked and whooping ensued, the evening progressed as he expected it would. Troy got obnoxiously loud, Andre laughed at everything, and Miles spent much of the time talking to any lady who would listen to him. As his teammates got drunker, Kristoff was more or less forgotten, and he didn't mind one bit. He ended up with Dimitri, standing with their backs to the wall and watching the scenes before them.

"I gotta get out of here soon," Dimitri mumbled, checking his phone. "Tatyana wants French fries."

Kristoff chuckled. "Cravings already?"

"Already?! Last week it was blueberry muffins. Two weeks ago it was bananas and peanut butter. Man, why can't she crave steak or something?"

"Fries are good, though."

"True. It's a start. Maybe she'll upgrade to hamburgers and shakes next week," he added hopefully.

"Gonna head out now?"

"Nah. Can't waste a perfectly good beer!" Dimitri laughed. "I'll finish this, then go."

"Bjooorgman!" Miles slurred as he half walked, half stumbled over. For the second time that night, he lazily placed his arm around Kristoff's shoulders; Miles was quite a touchy-feely drunk. "All the ladies in here want you! Go pick one!"

Kristoff rolled his eyes and took a sip of his third beer. "I don't think so."

"C'mon, when's the last time you had some? You can get any girl in this place!"

As Kristoff predicted, it didn't take long for friendly Miles to revert back to regular Miles.

"I'm all set, thanks."

"What 'bout your girlfriend?" Troy had showed up in even worse shape than Miles. "Go get her!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Your ginger gal," he garbled. "She's over there… all alone. Awwww!"

Kristoff narrowed his eyes in the direction Troy was sort-of pointing. He didn't even know who he was looking for until he spotted the profile of a familiar face. Anna was at the end of the bar, back to the crowd and facing the taps. Her head was hanging low as if she didn't want to be seen, and though she was still wearing the Bruins jacket she usually wore during games, she didn't seem the least bit interested in the victory festivities. There were a couple of empty shot glasses in front of her.

"Well, look at that! She actually _can_ shut up," Miles laughed.

"C'mon, Bjorgman, go give her some of the good stuff!" Troy urged. "Looks like she needs it."

"Hell, man, if you don't, maybe I will. She's a lot prettier with her mouth closed."

"Can it, Langlois," Dimitri warned.

"Seriously, fuck off."

"Aw, c'mon," Miles carried on, completely ignoring Kristoff and turning to Dimitri. "You know you'd take a piece of that if you could. Well, maybe not when you've got a preggo waiting for you at home. Bet she's horny as fuck!"

Dimitri took a sip of his drink and stared at Miles with a glare that would have made an actual bruin cower in fear.

"If you ever talk about my wife like that again," he said steadily, "I will beat the living shit out of you."

"Whatever," Miles scoffed, but he seemed to get the hint. "I'm gonna get another round. Anyone?"

Kristoff and Dimitri both shook their heads as Miles and Troy headed back to the bar.

"So that's Arendelle's daughter," Dimitri commented.

"Yup."

"Miles isn't wrong, though." When Kristoff raised an eyebrow, Dimitri smirked. "She's very pretty."

"I guess," Kristoff mumbled.

"Oh, bullshit! You know she is. Wonder what she's doing in a place like this?"

"No idea."

"You know her, right?"

"I've _met_ her," Kristoff corrected. "I wouldn't say I _know_ her."

"Whatever. I hope she's alright."

Kristoff shrugged. "She seems fine. Drunk, but fine."

"It's not her I'm worried about. It's these other idiots. Pretty girl alone in a bar? I wouldn't put it past one of these fools to try getting fresh with her."

Kristoff was about to retort, but then he took a closer look. There were a couple of guys eyeing Anna from further down the bar, and of course there was Miles glancing between her and Kristoff as if he were waiting for some sign that it was okay to pounce.

"I'd offer to take her home if I didn't have to go pick up food," Dimitri laughed. "But if I'm any later, Tatyana will murder me. I'll see you at practice tomorrow, yeah?"

"Right. See you."

Kristoff stayed rooted on the spot, sipping his beer as he watched Anna. Two more empty shot glasses had appeared in front of her since Troy had first pointed her out, and she had her hand around a third. One of the guys at the bar was inching closer.

_Damn you, Mateev_, he thought. Kristoff quickly finished his beer, abandoned the bottle on a table, and pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring all the cheering.

"Hey," he said once he was at her side. Anna didn't appear to notice, so he spoke a little louder. "Hey!"

She snapped out of whatever trance she'd been in to look his way, and what Kristoff saw was the last thing he expected. Her eyes were wet and slightly bloodshot; she'd been crying.

"Whoa," he murmured. "Are you alright?"

Anna crinkled her eyes for a moment as if she didn't recognize who he was, then she pointed at him with a shaking hand.

"From the interview, right?" she slurred.

"Uh, yeah. Are you okay?"

"Fine. I hate the Rangers."

"Well, we beat them."

"I still hate them." She took another shot and place the glass back on the counter a bit too roughly. "One more."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Kristoff interjected, holding up a hand. "Bartender!"

"Yeah?"

Kristoff nodded toward Anna, whose head was hanging down again. "How many has she had?"

"I don't know. Five? Maybe more? And a beer." He looked at Anna. "Another, miss?"

Anna began to nod, but Kristoff held up a hand.

"No. She's done." He looked at her. "You're done."

"No, I'm not."

"You're going to make yourself sick!"

"No," she argued. "No. I hate the Rangers, okay? I'm not driving. I hate the Rangers."

"How are you planning to get home, then?"

"The train."

"On your own?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"I don't think so," Kristoff declared incredulously, grabbing her purse from the back of her chair. "I'm taking you home."

"No! Give me back my purse!"

"Listen, Anna," he urged, "I'm not going to steal from you and I'm not going to hurt you, alright? I'm just going to make sure you get home in one piece."

"I can get home myself!"

"Yeah? Stand on your own two feet, then."

Anna accepted the challenge and slipped her bottom off the barstool. The second she was on the ground, she clung to the countertop, knuckles white from her tight grip.

"Ugh," she moaned.

"See? Come on, I'll get you home."

"Oh… okay."

"Can you walk?"

"I think I…" She attempted a couple of steps before stumbling into Kristoff's side. "See? Fine!"

"You're such a pain in the ass." He slipped an arm around her shoulder, and she fortunately did not object. "Did you bring an extra coat with you or anything? No? Just your purse? Alright, c'mon. Let's get out of here."

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "She still has to pay, you know!"

"For fuck's sake," he muttered under his breath. With his one free hand, he dug out his wallet and fumbled with it until he managed to pull out forty dollars. He slammed the bills on the counter. "If that doesn't cover it, bill me. Kristoff Bjorgman. I work across the street."

"I'll pay you back," Anna whimpered. "Promise."

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, you lush."

Kristoff walked as briskly as he could through the bar with Anna stumbling beside him. He caught Miles making an obscene gesture at him and Anna once they reached the door; it involved hip gyrations and a barstool. Kristoff flipped him off in response.

"Which line?" he asked Anna once they arrived in the underground station. "Orange or green?"

"Huh?"

"The train. Which one do you take home?"

"Um… green?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. Do you have a pass already?"

"Mhm. Wallet."

Kristoff returned her purse to her quivering hands, and it only took five seconds for him to snatch it right back. He guided her to a nearby bench and they both took a seat.

"You said your wallet?" he asked, rummaging through the seemingly bottomless bag. He never understood why women insisted on carrying such large purses with them at all times.

"My head hurts," she whined.

"I'll take that as a yes." He located her wallet and yanked out her commuter pass for the train. He also made it a point to grab her ID with her address. "Ready to stand back up?"

"No."

"Too bad. C'mon."

The train arrived quickly, much to Kristoff's delight. Once they were seated, Kristoff plugged Anna's address into the GPS on his phone and located the nearest stop. The second the train started moving, Anna's head tumbled onto his shoulder.

"My head hurts," she repeated.

"That happens after tequila."

"And my tummy…"

"What, did you expect it to tickle? What were you doing there all alone, anyway?"

"I hate the Rangers."

"Yes, I got that message the first eighty times you said it," Kristoff muttered. "You know, you shouldn't drink alone."

"Mhm."

"Seriously, it's dangerous. Especially in a crowd like that."

"Thanks, _dad_," Anna scoffed. Kristoff smirked; he didn't think she had a sarcastic bone in her body.

It seemed like an eternity until the train pulled into the stop closest to Anna's place, and even then, they still had a bit of a hike. He multitasked as they made their way down the sidewalk: he held her against him with one hand while using the other to fish her keys out of her bag. There were several stone steps leading up to the door of Anna's apartment building. Those were a bit of a challenge, but at least there was an elevator in the lobby.

"Which floor?"

"Third," she hummed.

He practically dragged her down the hall once they reached the third floor; Anna was at the point where she could barely stand. Once Kristoff unlocked the door, he guided her to the first thing he saw: her livingroom couch. She immediately rested her head in her hands.

"Oh, god," she moaned. "Why did I do this?"

"It happens," he said, taking a seat next to her. "I've been there, trust me."

"I'm so stupid."

"No, you're not."

"No, I am. I really, really am…"

At that moment, her shoulders started to shake, and Kristoff heard her sniffling.

"Don't cry," he murmured, awkwardly patting her on the back. He'd never been one for consoling, usually because he didn't give a damn and had no desire to pretend he did.

"I hate the Rangers," she wept.

"You know, most Bruins fans take issue with Montreal, not New York." Kristoff said it in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it just seemed to make her more upset.

"I know, I know. I hate them, too. I never used to hate New York."

"May I ask why you do?"

"Huh?"

"Why do you hate the Rangers so much?"

"Because," was all she said.

"Because…?"

"Because I – oh, no…"

Without warning, Anna stood up and starting jogging down the nearby hallway. By the way she was clutching her stomach, Kristoff could only assume she was headed for the bathroom. That assumption was hastily confirmed by the sound of lurching. He followed the noise, and in the second room on the right, he found a sickly Anna with her face in the toilet, emptying her stomach of the night's drink.

He was slightly annoyed; he hadn't signed up for this. All Kristoff wanted to do was go home and relax with the peace of mind that came with knowing she was safe. He had no obligation to be there or even give a shit that she was okay. Nonetheless, he felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl. He'd been in her position more times than he could remember, and though it had been quite a while, he remembered how awful it felt. Kristoff reluctantly knelt beside her and held her hair behind her head in a gentle grasp.

"You're okay," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she vomited again. "You're okay."

Anna spent the next couple of minutes alternating between throwing up and dry-heaving until there seemed to be nothing left in her belly. She cried throughout the entire ordeal. Kristoff mentally wagered that this was probably the first time she drank so heavily.

"I hate the Rangers," she sobbed between heaves. "I hate the Rangers…"

"I know."

He didn't realize until a minute later that the hand he'd been using to rub her back had mysteriously made its way around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

"Do you want to lay down?"

"I… I don't think I c-can move…"

"I've got you."

He carefully scooped her shaking body into his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Kristoff walked slowly down the hallway until he found her bedroom. The bed wasn't made, so he was able to slip her petite body beneath the blankets. Before covering her up, however, he noticed that a bit of vomit had gotten on her sweatshirt. There was no point in trying to get her to change into pajamas, so he decided to just remove the sweatshirt and let her sleep in her t-shirt and jeans. Kristoff pulled down the zipper and slipped the garment off of her as gently as he could.

He was about to go toss it into the nearby hamper when he caught sight of her arms. Kristoff thought it was a trick of the light, but upon closer inspection, he realized they were real: Anna's inner forearms were littered with small, almost invisible white lines. He wasn't stupid; he knew what they were.

Swallowing hard, he looked at her face again… _really_ looked at it. Anna was still crying, but now he could tell it wasn't only because she'd thrown up everything in her stomach. There was something about the way her eyes were squeezed shut, the way her eyebrows crinkled, the way she seemed to be trying to bury her face into the pillow… and those _scars_…

He wasn't sure if it was heartbreak, shame, abandonment, or something else, but whatever it was, she was in complete and utter pain. It was surprising to him, seeing as he'd never seen her less than enthusiastic and cheerful, but at the same time, it was those who were hurting the most who hid it the best. That was one of the few things he remembered his mother telling him years ago. For the first time that night, he felt genuinely concerned and wished there was something he could do.

_My god, Anna, what happened to you? _he thought.

Hurting or not, Anna needed to sleep, so Kristoff tucked her in and quietly exited her bedroom. For a moment, he considered heading home, but a tiny voice in his head swayed him. For some reason he didn't understand, he just couldn't leave her alone like that. What if she got sick again? What if she hurt herself? What if she woke up terrified? Why did he even_ care?_

That's what bothered him the most. He _hated_ caring. Caring made people vulnerable. He swore he'd never care again, yet there he was, lingering in the apartment of a girl he'd spoken to only a handful of times and, frankly, considered to be a bit irritating. Kristoff returned to the bathroom to clean the mess and flush the toilet. Then, he went to the kitchen and fetched the largest bowl he could find. He also went into the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. He placed the bowl beside her bed and set the bottle on her nightstand, just in case.

Kristoff returned to the livingroom couch and took a seat. Her phone was on the coffee table, so he searched through her contacts, thinking it might be a good idea to call someone on her behalf. Aside from her sister, parents, and a few people he knew were from the arena, however, she didn't have anyone listed. As he took in his surroundings, he noticed there was only one framed photograph; it was of her and her family.

Between that and the phone, he came to the conclusion that Anna was a very lonely person. While he personally basked in solitude, he got the vibe that such a way of life wasn't what someone like Anna wanted.

_Why do you even care?_ he thought again. _Stop it!_

But he couldn't. Before he knew it, he was taking out his phone and calling Martha, his neighbor. He wasn't surprised when it went to her answering machine considering how late it was.

"Hi, Martha. It's Kristoff. Sorry to call so late. Something came up and I won't be able to make it home tonight. I know you kept an eye on Sven this evening, but would you mind checking in on him in the morning? I'll come home to feed him before I go to practice, but if you could just let him out for a little while, I'd really appreciate it. I'll explain in the morning. Thanks. Have a good night and I'll see you tomorrow."

Kristoff lied back on the couch, resting his head on a throw pillow and pulling a nearby blanket over himself. He couldn't fall asleep right away, as his thoughts were consumed with why Anna's well-being was bothering him so much. He had no reason to care. She wasn't his friend. They were hardly even acquaintances.

_It's because you know what it feels like_, he reluctantly thought. _You've been hurt, too, remember? You know how shitty it feels. _

And as big of a grump as he was, Kristoff knew deep down that he hated seeing someone else in pain.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! :) See you soon for Chapter 6!


	6. Breakfast of Champions

**Chapter 6: **_**Breakfast of Champions**_

_**-Anna-**_

Anna woke the following morning positive that the storm of the century was going on within her own body. In her head was the thunder, pounding without mercy against her temples. When she opened her eyes, lightning seemed to strike, the unrelenting brightness causing more thunder in her brain. An angry sea of endless tidal waves consumed her stomach.

"Ugh," was all she could manage to moan.

She slowly stumbled out of bed, puzzled when her left foot found itself in her empty mixing bowl. What was _that_ doing there? Anna didn't bother herself with it too much, however, because she spotted a bottle of water on her nightstand; she hadn't even realized how thirsty she was until she saw it. She drank from it greedily, the water soothing her scratchy, parched throat despite it being room temperature.

When she shuffled down the hallway, Anna caught sight of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall: her hair was a mess, the sides of her mouth were crusted with drool, and there was an imprint of her bracelet on her cheek. In the living room, she noticed the fleece blanket she typically kept folded on the armchair was now bunched up at the end of the couch in a periwinkle heap. She couldn't recall moving it. In fact, the more she thought about it, she really didn't remember much of anything.

Anna stood on the threshold between the living room and kitchen, leaning against the wall and attempting to piece together what happened the night before. She remembered going to the bar, the beer, the first shot of tequila… then what? She wasn't sure what was reality and what she'd merely dreamt about. As she gazed around her apartment in a fog, she could have still been dreaming for all she knew. What about the flying train? What about the subtle scent of musk and pine? What about the feeling of something – or _someone_ – strong, holding her tight? What about the vomit?

Her stomach lurched again. No, no, the vomit had _definitely_ been real.

She was ashamed of herself. She had been doing _so_ much better, and to succumb to her weaknesses after seeing Hans for a no more than a few minutes, and in _public_, no less… she really _was_ pathetic and stupid.

The sound of her front door unlocking snapped her out of her trance, and the quick shift of her gaze toward the noise made her head spin. She was terrified for a split second and contemplated running to the kitchen to grab a knife until the person holding her keys stepped in; Kristoff Bjorgman entered her apartment carrying a white plastic bag and looking disheveled.

"Oh," he mumbled, "you're awake. Morning."

"Morning," she reciprocated apprehensively. Her eyes darted between the couch and him. Why did he have her keys? Had he spent the night? Why?

_Oh, no_, she thought. _No, no, no…_

"Sorry. I figured you'd still be asleep."

"Did you… did you spend the night here?"

"Yeah."

"Mr. Bjorgman-"

"Anna," he interrupted, "you really have to stop calling me that. It's Kristoff."

"Right. Sorry. Kristoff," she amended, "I was wondering… could you… I mean, would you be willing to remind me… um…"

"What happened last night?" he finished for her. When she sheepishly nodded, he smiled. "Nothing really. You had a bit too much to drink at Four's. I brought you home and tucked you into bed. That's it."

"That's it," she repeated slowly. "So did we… er… we didn't…?"

"Whoa, no," Kristoff said, holding up his free hand. "No. In case you haven't noticed, your clothes are still on."

"Oh," Anna whimpered, glancing down; she was indeed still clad in the jeans and t-shirt she wore during the previous night's game. "Right. I… I apologize. This is so unprofessional of me…"

"No need to be sorry. And what's this shit about being unprofessional? You're allowed to have a life outside your job, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I take it you were a bit drunk too, then?"

"Hm?"

"Well, you slept on the couch," Anna said, gesturing to the sloppy blanket.

"I had a few," he admitted, "but I could have gotten home just fine. But you… well, if I'm being completely honest, you were out of your mind last night. You got really sick and upset. I just didn't want to leave you by yourself."

"Oh," she breathed. "Th-thank you. That was very thoughtful of you."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"I have a bit of a headache," she confessed. "Stomach feels weird, too."

Kristoff nodded. "I've had my fair share of nights of heavy drinking, so I understand. The mornings after are always dreadful."

Anna chewed on her lower lip and stared at the floor. What else was she supposed to say? Off the clock or not, it didn't feel right having a member of the team – someone she was supposed to have nothing more than a professional relationship with – standing in her apartment at eight in the morning when she looked like a slob and was recovering from a night of making a fool of herself.

"Anyway, you need to eat," Kristoff said after a while, gesturing to the bag in his hand. "Getting something in your belly will help."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that! I have stuff here, and I usually just have coffee in the morning, anyway."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "You're new to hangovers, aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Coffee is the worst thing you can have right now. It'll aggravate the migraine. You need food. _Real_ food, not the yogurt and stuff sitting in your fridge," he quickly added when she was about to retort. "And water. Lots of water."

"Yogurt is real food," she argued in an irritated huff.

"I'm not saying it isn't, but you need some actual substance right now. This is some stuff from the diner down the street. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I grabbed a little bit of everything. Here."

Anna gingerly accepted the bag; it was one of those typical plastic take-out bags that had the phrase _THANK YOU_ repeated in red letters all the way down the front.

"There's two containers in here," she noticed out loud. "Would you like to have yours here, too?"

"I already ate. They're both for you."

"Both?!"

"I told you I grabbed a little bit of everything," he said. "Just please eat something, okay? I promise you'll feel loads better when you do."

"I will," Anna declared sincerely. "Thank you. Really, thank you so much. You're too kind."

"Don't mention it." Kristoff's gaze flashed downward for a split second; Anna wasn't sure why. "Are… are you going to be okay?"

Anna studied his face. He looked genuinely worried – at least, more worried than he had earlier. It was strange, but she tried not to think too much of it.

"I'll be fine," Anna assured him. "I'll eat, shower, then head to work. I'll be good as new in an hour."

"You're not seriously planning on going to work, are you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked incredulously. "I'm not sick."

"Neither is the majority of the population when they take a sick day," Kristoff countered. "I mean, do whatever you want, but if I were you, I'd take the day off. You seem like you need it. I get the feeling you aren't the type to take much time for yourself."

Anna shrugged. She had to admit it was tempting. But there was no telling how many people saw her at the bar last night. If she called in "sick," surely someone would figure out quickly that she was lying. What would people _say_? She didn't want to be _that _girl.

"I'll think about it," she mumbled.

"Good," Kristoff said. "I have to get going. Can't be late for practice. You all set?"

"Mr. Bjorgman – Kristoff!" she corrected hastily. "Kristoff. You've done more than enough. You didn't even have to do anything. _I'm_ the one that owes _you_, remember?"

"I said it before, and I'll say it again. You don't owe me anything, Anna. Not for that time, and not for this time, either."

"No. I do," Anna said. She felt her lip began to tremble, but she did her best to hide it; if Kristoff noticed, he didn't say anything. "Really. This was so nice of you. I truly appreciate it. Thank you."

She didn't vocalize it, but Anna was quite sure it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, at least in recent years. She wanted to hug him or even give him some money, _anything_ to show how grateful she was that he showed her such respect; many men, she knew, would have exploited her condition given the chance.

_Hans would have. Hans would have fucked me and left, probably_, she thought miserably.

"Well… you're welcome. Guess I'll see you around the arena, then."

"Y-yeah. See you around."

Anna carried the bag from the dinner into her kitchen, plopping it down on the table and taking a seat. She pulled out the first of two Styrofoam containers and popped it open. Inside was a lone Belgian waffle, accompanied by some plastic packets of butter and maple syrup. A small grin appeared on her face; it had been quite some time since she'd indulged in a waffle. Curious about what else he'd brought, Anna opened the second container.

"Oh!" she gasped as the lid fell backward toward the table.

Kristoff truly had not been joking when he said he'd grabbed a bit of everything. The second container was packed with nearly every type of breakfast food imaginable. There was a generous helping of seasoned home fries, a heap of scrambled eggs, a cheesy pastry, and two slices of rye toast, already buttered. Kristoff hadn't forgotten meat, either, being sure to include three pieces of crispy bacon, four sausage links, and a couple slabs of baked honey ham. There was even a plain bagel with cream cheese and jam on the side.

There was no fruit, no yogurt, no granola… then again, she suspected no one ever went to a diner in pursuit of a healthy breakfast.

Anna stared at the food before her, mouth agape. All she could think of was how bad all of it was, and that inevitably led to thoughts of Hans. Anna had never once been overweight, and he never let her forget it… by constantly reminding her that she'd best not let herself get to that point.

_No one loves a fat girl, Anna,_ he would say. _Don't want to turn into a porker, now, do you? Better lay of the chocolate soon, sweetie._

So she counted calories. She worked out too much. She deprived herself of all the foods she liked, of enjoying life. Anna had never actually starved herself, but she'd been so consumed with keeping him happy, with staying thin for him, with guaranteeing that someone would love her that it nearly destroyed her.

But she knew better now.

_Fuck you, Hans_, she thought.

First, she called her department and informed Marcy she wouldn't be making it in. _Stomach bug_, she lied. Then, she changed into her favorite pajamas. Finally, she went to town on the breakfast Kristoff had brought. It wasn't until she took the first bite that she realized how hungry she'd actually been.

She ate the waffle first, being sure to lather it in syrup and butter and not giving a damn how many calories she was shoving down her throat. Once that was finished, she moved on to the second container. Though she didn't care for everything in it, she made sure to eat it all. Out of sheer spite, Anna made sure she ate every last crumb of that sugary, fatty, deliciously carb-filled breakfast.

_Fuck you, Hans. Fuck you._

* * *

It was around one in the afternoon when there was a knock on her door. Anna didn't even bother getting off the couch to answer it; she knew who it was.

"Anna? It's me." And of course it was Elsa, presumably on her lunch break. Her sister was the only one Anna had given a spare key to, and she was always respectful enough to knock first regardless.

"Come on in," she mumbled, keeping her eyes glued to the television. It was a very entertaining show about twelve or so men getting paternity tests regarding the same child… actually, she decided, it was pretty stupid. She wondered just how much of it was staged.

"Maury? _Really?_" Elsa asked with a snort, plopping down in the armchair. "You sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

Anna chuckled. "Shush. There was nothing else on."

"Never is at this time of day. You alright? Marcy said you called in sick."

"Yeah. Wasn't feeling too well this morning."

"What's wrong?"

"Stomach bug."

"Hm. Stomach bug the day after the Rangers were in town," Elsa hummed. "With that in mind, I'm going to guess _stomach bug_ is code for hangover?"

"I hate you."

"So that's a yes?"

Anna buried her face into her throw pillow and groaned.

"Oh, Anna, I'm sorry," Elsa said. "You saw him?"

"Yeah..."

"You talked to him?"

"Yeah…"

"You punched him in the face?"

"No, but I should have," Anna moaned, lifting her head up. "He actually had the gall to ask me to lunch today. Can you believe that?"

"You… you didn't go, did you?"

"No! Of course not! Give me a little credit, will you?"

"Good," Elsa breathed. "That man is nothing but trouble. I'm assuming he came to find you? What did he want?"

Anna shrugged. "Just wanted to catch up, I guess."

"Oh, well isn't that sweet of him," Elsa mumbled sarcastically.

"He was actually really nice. Polite."

"Anna, that's how he always was, remember? That's how he always hooked you."

"Skip the lecture, please. I know."

"Sorry. It just makes me so upset."

"I know," Anna agreed. "Me, too."

"Mind if I grab a water?"

"Be my guest."

"Want anything?"

"Nah, but thanks."

Anna smiled as Elsa stepped into the kitchen. Their parents knew a little bit about what happened between her and Hans, but she was far too embarrassed to tell them every single detail. Elsa was the only one who knew everything. It was funny, considering Hans had indirectly caused a bit of a rift between the two sisters. Elsa hadn't liked Hans from the very beginning and was vocal about it, but Anna had always scoffed at her concerns, too naïve and infatuated with her first boyfriend to listen to reason. But in the end, despite all of their spats, Elsa was the one there for her. It was Elsa she called after the incident, Elsa who brought her to the hospital, Elsa who listened to everything, Elsa who helped her recover and feel like an actual person again. Anna knew she would've been dead had it not been for her sister and her tough love, and that wasn't an exaggeration.

"Looks like you had quite the meal," Elsa commented upon her return from the kitchen. "What did you have?"

"Just a bunch of breakfast stuff."

"Where'd you go?"

"It wasn't me. Kristoff brought it over this morning."

"Who's Kristoff?"

"Kristoff Bjorgman? From the team?"

"Oh, him. I wasn't aware you two were friends."

"Er… we're not, really," Anna confessed. "He was here last night and slept over, so this morning-"

"Whoa, slow down!" Elsa exclaimed. "What do you mean he slept over? Anna!"

"No, no, nothing happened! Nothing like that! You've got the wrong idea. He just… well, he brought me home last night."

"Why? You take the train. How drunk were you that you couldn't board the train by yourself?"

"_Really_ drunk," Anna sheepishly admitted. "It was so bad, Elsa. I… I hardly remember anything. I don't even want to think about what would've happened if he hadn't been there. I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid," Elsa soothingly assured her. "We all make mistakes. But the two of you… um…"

"Nothing happened," Anna promised.

"I know, but… never mind."

"No. What?"

"I don't want to make insinuations, but, well… you did say you don't remember anything."

"He's not like that. I know he isn't."

"No offense, but you said that about Hans, too."

"Elsa!"

"I'm sorry," her sister quickly said. "I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"A bit," Anna mumbled.

"I'm sorry. It's just after everything that happened… well, I worry about you, Anna. _A lot._ You know that. I don't want you getting hurt again."

"I know. But really, you don't need to worry. All he did was bring me home, and he stayed over in case I got sick again."

"Oh. Well… that was nice of him." She still sounded apprehensive.

"Please, don't think anything of this," Anna said. "I didn't sleep with him, we're not dating… nothing like that. He saw that I was out of it and did what he could to help, and he didn't hurt me. He brought me breakfast to be nice. I thanked him this morning and he left, no questions asked. That's all, I promise. Please don't worry."

"I'll always worry, but okay," Elsa conceded. "I'm just glad you're safe. Just please, next time you plan on getting drunk, don't do it alone, okay?"

"Believe me, that won't be a problem. After feeling the way I did this morning, I'm pretty sure I'll never drink again. Tequila on an empty stomach is a no-no. Lesson learned!"

Elsa laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're doing better."

"I am."

"And you aren't thinking about Hans?"

"Only occasionally and about how much I'd like to slap him."

"Sounds good to me!" Elsa chuckled. "Anyway, I have to head back. You need anything before I go?"

"Nah, I'm okay. Thanks for stopping by."

"Anytime. Love you."

"Love you too."

As Elsa left, Anna slumped back onto the couch. On the television, the fourteenth man was being informed he was a dad and the audience was going ballistic. It was beyond ridiculous, but she was far too lazy and comfortable to reach for the remote and change the channel.

Instead, she absentmindedly thought about Kristoff. Anna wasn't a cynical person by nature, but after Hans, she had a hard time believing that people, especially men, could be kind just for the sake of being kind. Kristoff had proven her wrong. He said he wanted nothing in return, and she truly believed him. There was something genuine about him, something that made her certain he was just a regular man with a good heart despite his rugged appearance and somewhat violent career choice.

Though Kristoff's gesture had been small, it was things like that which reminded Anna there was decency in the world, and after seeing Hans again, she really needed every reminder she could get.

_Hans._

Had Anna not been so comfortable, she would've gone to the diner to get three more waffles.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! :) The next chapter will break routine slightly so we can hear from Elsa and, in turn, learn a lot more about what happened to Anna... and perhaps see Elsa's first interaction with Kristoff. Or, maybe my muse will betray me and things won't go as planned. Heaven knows it's happened plenty of times before.

Either way, see you soon!


	7. Doubt

**Chapter 7: **_**Doubt**_

_**-Elsa-**_

The train rattled and screeched its way to the North Station, but Elsa hardly noticed the noise. She was leaning her head against the window, staring out at the darkness of the underground tunnel as she was carried back to the arena. To a stranger, she likely looked like a regular passenger daydreaming her way through a bland, ordinary Thursday, but the truth was she was in quiet chaos, and it was all Kristoff Bjorgman's fault.

He'd found Anna drunk and brought her home to her empty apartment. He'd _spent the night_, completely uninvited, and Elsa was just supposed to sit back and believe his intentions were nothing but noble. She had remained as calm and collected as possible when her sister recounted the events of the previous evening, but now that she was alone, her mind was reeling with each and every horrendous what-if.

Elsa felt terrible about it; a lot of people – _most_ people, even – were good. She had no right to jump to conclusions or make assumptions about Kristoff, and she trusted that Anna wouldn't lie about such things. But after Hans…

She closed her eyes for a brief moment and wondered if Anna's relationship with Hans would ever stop plaguing her, stop making her constantly worry for her sister's safety. Anna was an adult and quite capable of making her own decisions; Elsa knew that. But after the way that smug bastard had treated her, played mind games with her, made her feel like nothing…

_But that was over a year ago_, Elsa silently reminded herself, _and Anna has gotten so much better. She's healthy. She's stable. There won't be any more incidents, okay? She's so much stronger now._

She mindlessly toyed with the silver bracelet on her wrist. She figured most would have considered it childish for two women in their twenties to have matching jewelry, as if they were eight-year-olds with those plastic broken heart necklaces that spelled _best friends_ when connected, but she couldn't care less. They were special to her and Anna. Each sister's bracelet had two charms: a key and a lock as a cheesy reminder that they wouldn't keep secrets from one another again. Elsa had bought them after Anna's incident, presenting one as a gift to her and replacing the plastic hospital bracelet.

As they always did when Elsa thought about Anna's hospital stay, goosebumps spread like wildfire on her arms, even in the sticky heat of the crowded underground train. It had been an ordinary night when Elsa got the phone call. In actuality, it wasn't a phone call, but rather Anna unknowingly pocket-dialing her sister. Such a thing wasn't uncommon for Anna, for it was a mistake she was notorious for, but that night it had been a blessing in disguise. When Elsa answered the first call, she heard Anna crying, _hard,_ and somehow she just knew. It had been two weeks after Hans broke off the engagement, after all.

Elsa hadn't even thought twice about calling an ambulance. She, meanwhile, had sobbed uncontrollably as she drove to Anna's apartment, shouting her sister's name into her phone with each pocket-dial, desperate for her voice to be heard.

The next hour was still a bit of a blur for Elsa. She remembered arriving to find Anna barely breathing beside an empty pill cup and nearly-finished bottle of liquor. She somewhat remembered the EMTs arriving shortly after. She remembered the ambulance ride, and being a strange mix of panicked, hurt, and furious.

Unfortunately, it had been the fury that came out first after Anna's stomach had been pumped and she was stabilized.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you, Anna?!" Elsa screamed once she was in the all-white room and the door was closed behind her. "Why in God's name would you pull a stunt like that? We almost lost you, you know that? How could you do that to us? To ME? Is it because Hans left? Is that it? People break up all the time, Anna! That's no reason to try to off yourself! You need to get the fuck over it, okay? I can't believe you! You're so selfish!"_

_Throughout the entire lecture, Anna had been completely stoic, staring at the ceiling and seemingly ignoring Elsa. In that moment, however, she snapped. Anna burst into tears and refused to look at her sister._

"_Why couldn't you just let me die?" Anna wailed. "I want to die, I want to die…"_

"_Why, Anna? WHY?" _

"_Because no one will ever love me again! Hans was the only one who would ever love me! He was _right_, Elsa! I'm desperate and pathetic! No one else will put up with me! I-"_

"I_ love you, Anna! Our parents love you! Doesn't that count for anything?"_

"_No, because I just make life difficult for everyone. Everyone would be better off if I was gone!"_

"_That's not true!" Elsa countered. She sat beside her sister and gently pulled her into her arms, not even realizing that she'd begun crying, too. "You are so loved, Anna. You're so special. That doesn't change because your engagement didn't work out, okay?"_

"_But Hans… Elsa, he was my only chance at having someone, okay?! I was _lucky_ to have him."_

"_What makes you so sure of that?"_

"_Because… because I'm worthless! I'm nothing!"_

"_Don't say that. Please don't. How can you even think that?"_

_Anna didn't say anything; instead, she quietly continued to cry and stared at her lap. Elsa brushed a hand against the side of her sister's face._

"_Talk to me, Anna," she softly implored. "Please, tell me what's going on."_

"_No. There's no point."_

"_Anna, please. I want to help."_

_Elsa rubbed comforting circles on her back while she wept and trembled. Anna said nothing, but Elsa thought it best not to push any further. Her sister was in pain, an angel with broken wings, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause any more harm. So she waited patiently for several minutes, silently willing Anna's agony to dissipate before speaking again._

"_Tell me about Hans," Elsa said after a long while._

"_Wh-what?"_

"_Hans," Elsa repeated. "Sometimes it helps to talk about what's troubling you."_

"_Y-you never cared b-before…"_

_It felt like a kick to the stomach, but Elsa knew she deserved that. She hadn't liked Hans from the very beginning; something about him gave her a bad vibe, and she'd wasted no time in making sure Anna knew that. _

"_And I'm sorry for that, Anna," she whispered sincerely. "I'm so, so sorry, more than you'll ever know. But for what it's worth, I'm here now. I'm here to help you in any way I can, but I can't do that unless you talk to me. So please, tell me something?"_

Elsa remembered her sister saying a lot after that, detailing her relationship from beginning to end. Anna and Hans became friendly when she was a sophomore in college and he was working on his Master's. They quickly began dating, and he was very polite and romantic: he brought her flowers, took her to dinner, opened doors for her… it was what any naïve, homeschooled girl who only had limited social experience would have completely fawned over. That much, however, Elsa had already known. The rest was a different story.

Anna then began to discuss how she couldn't understand what she'd done wrong, what made him leave. She'd made it a point to wear looser clothing and not put too much make-up on, honoring his wishes when he said he didn't like when other men looked at her. She'd eaten less and went to the gym often when he warned her about her weight. She'd indulged his desires when he wanted, even if she wasn't necessarily in the mood. When Anna talked about these things, she painted it as just doing what any good girlfriend would do, but Elsa heard it differently. She heard it as him being possessive and controlling. She heard it as him guilting her into sex and taking advantage of her ignorance.

With sneaky tactics and by maintaining the upper hand, Hans had managed to make Anna genuinely believe that he was the only person who could ever love her. He manipulated her, _degraded her_, and made her feel like she would be nothing without him. He spent two years playing with her mind, only to dump her shortly after graduating to pursue another woman. It was no wonder Anna had gone to such drastic measures; in her mind, she was completely and utterly alone, so what was the point in carrying on?

It was a lengthy, grueling process after that, but Elsa was able to assist Anna in pulling herself together again and feeling whole. Anna spent three days in the hospital after her incident, and a condition of her release was to agree to see a therapist three times a week. With help from those regular visits to the doctor, Elsa managed to get Anna to realize that what she'd had with Hans wasn't love, but abuse. He may not have ever laid a hand on her, but he'd abused her in the most subtle and malicious way.

And Elsa would never forgive herself for not catching it sooner.

"Miss?"

Elsa snapped back to reality and looked to her left, surprised to see a stranger standing beside her and offering a tissue.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh," Elsa breathed, accepting the gesture. She dabbed at her teary eyes; when had _that_ started? "Yes… yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"This is the last stop."

"Oh, are we there already?" Elsa exclaimed. She quickly looked out the window, and sure enough, she saw the familiar green North Station sign along with a crowded platform. "Thank you. I just spaced out a bit, I suppose."

"Have a good day, miss."

"Thank you. You as well."

Elsa slung her purse over her shoulder and hastily stepped off the train, weaving in and out of people to get to the stairs. It was a very short walk from the station to the arena, and she spent the time getting there thinking about Anna and Kristoff again. After Hans, her stomach churned at the thought of another man getting close to Anna. She knew such feelings were premature, but she couldn't help herself. Anna had gone on a couple of dates in the past year, and Elsa was ashamed to admit she was happy that they hadn't evolved into anything more. How could she possibly trust someone with her sister's heart? What if she got hurt again? What if things resulted in another incident?

_And what if someone makes her happy? _the rational side of her brain reminded her. _You're overreacting. Nothing happened. You trust Anna, don't you?_

And she really did trust Anna. Deep down, Elsa didn't truly think Kristoff's intentions had been anything but cordial, but she still wouldn't let her guard down just yet. He was an athlete, for goodness sake. He was handsome and wealthy and, as far as she knew, he did not have a girlfriend. He avoided interviews constantly and didn't seem to have many friends. Something about him was… _off._

"Hi, Oaken," she said once she reached the gift shop. The manager was sifting through a box of new sweatshirts and carefully hanging them on racks near the windows. "Have you seen my da… er, Mr. Arendelle?"

"Good afternoon, Miss!" he chanted happily. "Last I saw, Mr. Arendelle was heading into the stands to watch the afternoon practice session."

"Thank you!"

With Oaken's information, it didn't take long for Elsa to find her father. Whenever he watched the team practice, he always sat in the same section, same row, and same seat as he had for the last several years since the remodel.

"Hi, dad."

"Elsa!" he exclaimed. "Have a nice lunch?"

"Eh, it was alright. I went to check on Anna," she informed him.

"How's she doing?"

"She's okay. Just a bit of a stomach bug."

"Hangover?"

"How'd you know?"

"C'mon. The day after the Rangers were in town? How ancient do the two of you think I am?"

"Fair enough," Elsa chuckled.

"Is she okay, though?"

"Yeah. She's been eating and resting. She'll be back tomorrow." Elsa thought it best to leave out the part about Kristoff's sleepover.

"Good. That girl worries me sometimes."

"Ditto," Elsa agreed. She nodded to the clipboard in her father's hands, which he'd been jotting things down on when she arrived. "What have you got there?"

"Nothing special. Just keeping an eye on things."

"You rarely take notes during practices."

"Rarely doesn't mean never."

"True," Elsa admitted, "but every time you do, it's usually because you're looking for something specific. Or at _someone_ specific. Is anything going on?"

Adgar glanced at Elsa, a conceding smile on his face. He tucked his ballpoint pen into the top of the clipboard and removed his glasses.

"Well, you may as well know. The Rangers have expressed interest in some of our players."

"Oh." Elsa wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to hear, but that wasn't it.

"It's customary for team owners and managers to meet before games in the event that those associated with the visiting team travel," her father continued. "It's a rather informal meeting but, naturally, team affairs have a tendency to make their way into the conversations. New York's troubles came up."

"Troubles? What kinds of troubles?"

"For one, they didn't make the playoffs last season."

"I'd hardly consider that a trouble. It was _one_ season. And weren't they the ninth seeded team? That's only one place shy of making it, which is nothing to scoff at."

"I agree with you, but when a team as prestigious and historic as New York fails to make a playoff run, things get messy. Evidently, a few of their major sponsors yanked their endorsement. A lot of season ticketholders did not renew for the season."

"Fickle fans, if you can even call people like that legitimate _fans_," Elsa mumbled.

"The point is, the Rangers have been slipping for the past few years, and the Westergaards would prefer for last season to be their rock bottom; they don't want to fall any lower. But as you said, they were middle-of-the-pack last season, so they didn't get the best draft picks over the summer. They missed out on some good young blood. So, they're exploring their options and looking to trade."

"Did they mention anyone in particular?"

"Well, of course the first name mentioned was-"

"Mateev," Elsa laughed, wondering why she'd even asked. It wouldn't be the first time another team expressed interest in Dimitri, and it likely would not be the last. "Ha! Did you tell them exactly where they could stick that ridiculous proposal?"

"Elsa!" Adgar scolded, but he was chuckling, too. "I declined, _politely_. If I have my way, Mateev will retire a Bruin."

"Good. So who else, then?"

"Langlois's name came up. Wyatt, Pavalov, Bjorgman…"

"Bjorgman?" For a split second, Elsa wanted to cheer at the opportunity to get Kristoff Bjorgman far, _far_ away from her sweet and vulnerable sister. She just as quickly pushed the idea away, reminding herself that such thoughts were rash and, frankly, preposterous.

He nodded. "He's a young, talented player with a lot of years left in him if he stays healthy. Honestly, though, I think they'd take anyone. They offered… well, it would be quite the payday should we agree. What's your take?"

"Hm?"

"What are your thoughts?" he asked, gesturing out to the rink where the team was wrapping up an intense practice. "You've watched them play quite a lot. Is there anyone you think we could afford to lose?"

"I don't think so," Elsa answered honestly. "We made it to the second round last year. I think we're doing quite well with what we have. Is the money really worth risking that?"

"Sometimes." When Elsa raised an eyebrow, her father smiled. "I used to be skeptical of things like that, too. Still am occasionally. But, sport or not, this is a business, and a business needs to grow, and that includes financially. That was one of the hardest lessons I had to learn."

"Why do we even want to help New York, anyway?" Elsa continued. "I know they're not a divisional rival, but they're still in our conference. Couldn't a trade hurt us in the long run?"

"It could," he admitted, "but at the same time, we don't want to burn our bridges. There could be a time when Boston is in a rut and _we_ need to make trades."

"I guess. But do we need to decide now?"

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "The trade deadline isn't until the first week of March. Plenty of time! It's definitely something we need to think about. And I'll be talking to the coaches – discretely, of course."

"Right. I'll give it some thought, too."

"Good," he said. He stood just as the coach on the ice blew his whistle, signaling the end of practice. "I'm going to head back to my office. I have a few calls to make. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Dad."

Elsa watched the ice for a while longer. The coach offered some final words and instructions before exiting the rink, leaving the players on their own. The majority of them grouped together, loudly chatting and shouting as they headed for the locker room. Elsa wasn't interested in them, however. She kept her eyes on number twenty-three, who was lingering back with Dimitri Mateev. Considering the way that the majority of the athletes she'd seen over the years conducted themselves, she took it as a good sign that Kristoff didn't appear to get involved in the team's antics. It didn't take long for Mateev to make his way off the ice, too, leaving Kristoff alone. He took a few lazy shots at the goal, getting all but one.

Before she knew it, Elsa was going back out to the concourse and into the staff-only areas that led to the storage facilities, locker rooms, and the ice itself. She walked through the same very large hallway the players did when they were heading out to the rink for practice or an actual game. She stood on the rink's edge, not daring to take her eyes off the pucks Kristoff continued to practice with; all it would take was for one to go rogue in just the right manner to result in a concussion or worse.

Kristoff seemed to notice her standing there after a while. He slanted his skates, forcing them to come to a halt and sloshing up a bit of ice in the process.

"Hello," he called, though there was a hint of a question in his voice.

Elsa cleared her throat. "Good afternoon, Mr. Bjorgman. May I have a word with you?"

Kristoff skated over while removing his helmet and gloves. He never let go of his stick though he did drag it behind him somewhat.

"Ah, Miss Arendelle," he observed.

"Elsa's fine."

"Am I in some sort of trouble?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Why do you ask? Have you done something worthy of reprimand?"

"Er, no, it's just you don't usually… never mind. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing. I just came to talk about my sister."

"Ah. Right."

"I just came from seeing her not too long ago."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine, thank you. I… I would have appreciated a phone call, Mr. Bjorgman." It sounded more accusatory than she intended, and it did not escape his notice.

"I almost did, but it was quite late," he replied mildly. "And it's Kristoff."

"Late or not, Kristoff, I would have preferred a phone call over a strange man spending the night in my sister's apartment while she was intoxicated."

His face was a mixed reaction of shocked, irritated, and hurt.

"I was only trying to help," he muttered. "Sorry, it won't happen again."

"No, no,_ I'm_ sorry," Elsa said, briefly holding up her hands. "I didn't mean to sound so cross. It's just… she's my baby sister and I worry about her. She's been through a lot…"

Kristoff nodded. "I figured that."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Anyway… what I really came down here for was to thank you for assisting Anna last night. She informed me you took good care of her, and… well, you weren't obligated to do that. Thank you."

"Well…you're welcome," he muttered sheepishly.

Kristoff kept looking over her shoulder, almost as if he was looking for an escape route. Elsa recalled how quickly he left after games, how he avoided interviews and press conferences, and even how just a few minutes ago he distanced himself from his teammates. He certainly wasn't a social man.

"Sorry. I won't keep you. I'm sure you want to shower and change. I'll be on my way."

"Thanks."

"No, thank _you_. It's a good thing you were there."

Kristoff didn't say anything else as he sauntered by Elsa and down the hallway. She watched him walk away for a moment, fruitlessly attempting to figure him out. Why did he go out of his way to help a woman he barely knew? Was he genuinely nice, or did he have other intentions? It was the possibility of the latter part that terrified her. For the umpteenth time that day, she fiddled with the bracelet that matched Anna's, and her finger traced the outline of the lock charm. Everyone had a vault stashed with secrets. Elsa didn't think Kristoff was dangerous or malicious, but she still didn't trust him.

Not yet, anyway.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry this chapter is so late. Elsa isn't fun for me to write, so I had a very difficult time forcing myself through it. It's probably a mess. Sorry.

See you much sooner(hopefully!) for Chapter 8. :)


	8. Sampler Platter

**Chapter 8: **_**Sampler Platter**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

After returning from a week on the west coast, the Bruins were afforded their first long break: a stretch of four days with no games. It was a well-deserved recess. As October came to a close, the team had won nine of their fourteen games, placing them second in the division and third in the conference. Though the season was still young, it was shaping up to be a promising one and they were all optimistic.

This, however, did not stop Kristoff from practicing. He'd been too jetlagged on the first day back to much of anything, but on the second day, he was suited up in his practice gear and enjoying having the rink to himself. He'd dumped a bucket of twenty or so pucks on the ice, set up a goal himself, and spent some alone time polishing his techniques, particularly his backhand; a misfired backhand on his part cost them a goal during their game against Anaheim, and it had been eating away at him ever since. The glass panels that typically surrounded the rink were down for cleaning, which resulted in a few pucks getting launched into the stands. Kristoff made a mental note of where each one landed; he'd fetch them later.

He'd been on the ice for roughly an hour and a half when he discovered he had a spectator. Kristoff was making his way around the back of the goal when he spotted someone standing on the opposite side of the wall near the first row of seats. His first reaction was to think it was one of the maintenance workers, but once he took in the fiery hair and business attire, he realized it was Anna Arendelle. She gingerly raised a hand and offered him a low wave. Without a second thought, he skated over to where she stood, shifting his blades to a halt when he got close.

"Good afternoon."

"Hello," she replied with a pleasant smile.

"How long have you been here?" he wondered out loud.

She shook her head. "Oh, not long. I was just heading out to lunch and heard someone playing. I apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"Oh, no, it's no problem at all," he assured her. "You aren't intruding."

Kristoff wasn't sure what else to say. He hadn't seen her for about ten days, and the dynamic had been quite different during their previous encounter; then, she'd been recovering from a night of depression and too much alcohol, complete with messy hair and clothes wrinkled from sleep. However, it was professional Anna now standing before him, donning a blazer and matching skirt, and that was probably the only version of her that he, a member of the team, was supposed to be acquainted with. It was no longer pertinent to ask the things he wanted, like if she was doing better, if she'd made it through that day alright, and why she hated the Rangers so much. That night and following morning had been an isolated incident, meant to be forgotten and never brought up again.

But he would have been lying to himself if he were to say he hadn't thought about her since. Kristoff certainly had not obsessed over her, but Anna, her sadness, and her scars had crossed his mind a few times while he'd been alone with his thoughts. He didn't _care_ – no, that definitely couldn't have been it – but he did wonder. Yes, that was what it was: curiosity, and nothing more. It was an inappropriate and unnecessary curiosity that would never be fulfilled because she was the owner's daughter and he was just an insignificant player who could be traded or sold at any moment.

"Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you," Anna said, breaking the brief silence.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she murmured, cheeks pinkening a little. "I just wanted to thank you again for you for what you did. You know… that night. And morning."

"It was nothing," he humbly murmured.

"No, no, it definitely wasn't nothing," she countered. "Really. I don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't been there. And bringing me breakfast, well… that was above and beyond. You weren't even required to help me, never mind do that as well. I'm truly grateful, Kristoff. Thank you. You're a blessing."

Kristoff shrugged, his cheeks likely as pink as hers after that speech. "I'm nothing special, Anna. I just did what any halfway decent person would have done. But you're welcome."

"And I want you to know, that's not me at all," she continued. "I mean, what happened that night, what I did, the way I behaved… I never do that. _Ever_. Please don't think poorly of me. I was just sort-of in a bad place and _god_, I'm so embarrassed… I made a fool of myself… I…" She hung her head then, glaring at her black pumps and taking in a deep, quivered breath.

"Please don't be embarrassed," he interrupted. "Everyone has their moments. I can't even wager a guess as to how many times I drank more than I could handle and ended up in a far worse condition than you were. So… yeah. Don't worry about it."

Anna allowed a smile. "That's kind of you, but that night's probably going to haunt me for a while."

"Fair enough. Stupid things I've done still pester me every now and then, so I get it. And for the record, I don't think poorly of you."

"Sorry?"

"You were worried about what I thought of you," he reminded her. "I don't think badly or less of you at all. Like I said, we all have our moments."

"I know, but when I conduct myself in such a manner, it paints a negative image of the organization."

"Anna," he said firmly, "stop. You're being way too hard on yourself. You had a few drinks. So what? People see Miles and everyone else endlessly drinking in public after almost every game. Not to be rude, but they're a bit more recognizable than you, and if they haven't drawn any criticism, you're safe. You haven't destroyed the team's good name, I promise."

Anna sighed. "I suppose you're right. Thanks. Anyway, I didn't mean to hold you up. I should let you get back to practicing."

"No worries. I was planning on stopping right around now," he lied. Kristoff had actually intended on practicing until about two, but after Anna mentioned lunch, his stomach began to rumble. "I'm just going to tidy up then grab something to eat."

"You are?" she asked. "Would you like me to get you something?"

"To eat? Thanks, but I can manage."

"Oh, really, it'd be no trouble at all!" she urged enthusiastically. "I honestly don't mind! Besides, it's the least I can do after everything you've done for me. You can consider this repayment for the breakfast! Oh, and for the money I owe you from the bar! Crap, I completely forgot about that. I'm so sorry. I promise I'll get that to you before the end of today. See? I owe you a meal at the very least. Please, let me get something for you?"

Anna said all of this very fast and the pitch of her voice rose with each word. There was a pleading desperation in her eyes, reminding Kristoff of the several occasions she'd told him she owed him. Despite his constant arguments against that, she was determined to fulfill her promise. A need to please and care for those around her seemed to be in her nature; he unwittingly wondered where she'd attained such a drive… and _why_.

"Please?" she asked again. It was nearly a whimper.

"Alright," he conceded with a smile. He'd cut her a break this time. "Alright."

"Really? Great! Um… what do you like?"

"I'll eat anything." That was mostly true. Growing up as a foster kid didn't afford him a lot of chances to be picky.

"Okay. Makes things easy for me. How long do you need to… er, do whatever it is you do after practicing?"

"I don't know. Half hour, give or take?" Kristoff figured that'd be enough time to clean the rink, shower, and change. He'd go find the flyaway pucks later.

"That's perfect." She glanced behind her, then looked back at him. "Meet me right here, in Section Eleven. Is that okay?"

"It's fine. See you then."

"See you!"

Anna climbed the stairs and disappeared back onto the concourse, the clicking of her shoes echoing throughout the empty arena. Meanwhile, Kristoff collected the pucks scattered across the rink and dragged the goal off the ice. He didn't bother to go hunting for the pucks that launched into the stands; that would be a task for after lunch. After sauntering back to the locker room, he indulged in a quick shower and dressed in regular clothes. He was seated in the appropriate section early, so he enjoyed the view of the ice; it brought him back to when he watched games as a kid on television. Never in a million years had he thought his dream of playing on that majestic rink would come true. Even after a year, it was still difficult to believe.

Kristoff glanced at his phone. Forty-five minutes had gone by since he and Anna had parted ways. He was about to go searching for the missing pucks when he heard the hurried sound of her heels behind him. He turned around, and his jaw dropped at the sight: she was carrying so much food that he could barely see her face.

"Sorry!" she cried. "Sorry I'm so late. The hot dog steamer was giving me trouble."

"Don't worry abo… Jesus!"

On the stairs between Sections Eleven and Twelve, Anna set down a large tray covered in food from the concession stands all around the concourse. Anything a fan could possibly want while attending a hockey game was on the platter. There was a slice of pepperoni pizza, a cheeseburger stacked with toppings, a salted pretzel, a piece of fried dough topped with powdered sugar, a heap of French fries, a tub of popcorn, a plate of nachos, a hot dog with all the trimmings, a some chicken tenders with honey mustard for dipping.

"You _made_ all this? Just now?"

"Y-yeah," Anna stammered, cheeks reddening. "I... well, I used to work in concessions. I wasn't sure what you liked so I made as much as I could. Is… is there something you like on here?"

"Yes," he affirmed, still awestruck that she managed to whip up so many delicious foods in such a short time span. "You didn't have to do all this. Wow…"

Anna shrugged. "Well, I wanted to make sure you had enough things you enjoyed."

"Thank you. That's really nice of you."

"So… um, just leave whatever you don't want. I'll come clean up after. I should probably get back to work. I'll see you later." She turned to leave.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"When you came down here, you said you were heading to lunch. Well… you never went out, so you haven't eaten."

"Oh," Anna laughed, "it's okay. I've got some granola bars in my desk."

"Nonsense. Have a seat. Share some of this with me."

"No, no," she said, waving the notion off. "This isn't for me."

"Anna, come on," he countered, raising an eyebrow. "You really don't think I can eat all of this by myself, do you?"

She nibbled on her lower lip was silent for a moment; it was almost as if she couldn't figure out if he was playing a trick on her or being serious. Kristoff thought sadly of her lonely-looking apartment and the almost nonexistent list of contacts in her phone. She probably didn't get invited to lunch often.

"Please?"

"You… you really don't mind?" she squeaked. "I don't want to be a buzzkill."

"You're not a buzzkill," he scoffed. "Please, join me."

"Okay," she agreed, a relaxed smile spreading across her face. "Thank you." She was just about to sit across the aisle from him when she suddenly exclaimed, "Oh! I forgot about drinks! What can I get for you? Water? Soda? Beer?"

Kristoff laughed. He was sick of water and beer seemed inappropriate. "Soda, please. Coke?"

"Sure! I'll be right back."

Anna returned almost as quickly as she left with two large cups in her hands, one of which she handed to Kristoff.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They sat quietly for a moment – Kristoff in Section Eleven, Anna in Section Twelve, with the giant platter of goodies on the stairs between them.

"Ladies first."

"Uh-uh," Anna said with a smirk. "You go first. Take whatever you want."

Kristoff eyed the food for a moment. They could split most of the items if they wanted, but only a handful would be troublesome to share.

"Mind if I have the burger?" he asked.

"By all means. I made it for you. I'll take the pizza, if that's alright?"

"Be my guest."

They each grabbed their food and went to town.

"Mm," Kristoff commented after a couple minutes of comfortable silence. "This is really good."

"Really?" Anna asked with a smile. "I'm glad you like it."

"So, you worked in concessions, eh?"

"Yeah. Only for a little while, during my junior year of college."

"Forgive me, but I can't picture the owner's daughter working at a concession stand."

Anna laughed. "Yeah, I guess it's a little strange when you think about it. But, I wanted to get involved in any way I could. I've dabbled in everything, really. I've worked in the box office, gift shop… pretty much anywhere I was able to interact with the fans."

"Are you training alongside your sister, too?" he asked.

"Nah. Behind-the-scenes isn't really my thing. It's too tedious for me. Even in Fan Relations, I get bored when there's too much office work. It gets lonely. But it's okay. I'll never be able to do the job I…"

Anna stopped suddenly. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin in an obvious attempt to conceal the blush taking over her cheeks.

"What?" Kristoff asked with a smile. "What do you want to do?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"C'mon, what is it?"

Anna sighed and looked at him. "Promise not to laugh?"

"Promise."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "Well, I've always wanted to… to _play_."

"Play?"

She nodded toward the ice. "Hockey. The game. Fights aside, you guys always look like you're having such a great time. I mean, I never could be on the team because I'm a woman, but I still think it'd be fun to try. I know how to skate, but I've never actually played. Isn't that sad, considering I've been around the sport my whole life?"

"Hold on! You're telling me you've _never_ played? Not even for _fun_?"

Anna shook her head. "Nope. I've held a stick for a picture once, but that was it. I… I never had anyone to play with or show me how." She said that last part sheepishly and in a hushed mumble.

"It was never part of gym class at school?"

"I was homeschooled."

"Ah."

"Well, I wasn't _always_ homeschooled," she clarified. "Elsa and I went to an all-girls private school when we were younger, but we started homeschooling when I was about eight or nine. That was when my grandfather died and my dad took over the team, so the family was traveling a lot. It just made sense, I suppose, for us to have tutors and be on our own schedules. It just made making friends hard." Anna shook her head and smiled. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this…"

"Oh, it's okay," Kristoff said. "I didn't have a lot of friends growing up, either. Er, still don't."

"I get the feeling you're a bit of a loner."

Kristoff chuckled. "Yeah."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"For making you feel obligated to each lunch with me," Anna sighed. "Please, just tell me to go if you'd rather be alone."

"No," Kristoff assured her. "This… this is nice."

He wasn't lying. There had never been a question about her kindness, but during the few times he'd talked to her before, her personality had been a bit too strong for his liking; he was taken aback by how much he was enjoying her company. Then, there was the talking itself. Taking the time to sit with someone and engage in a regular conversation, not just casual banter with the team, was surprisingly refreshing.

"So," she hummed.

"So."

"So… um… I guess it's your turn."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Anna said, "I just told you a bit about me. All I know about you is what you told me for the interview, which wasn't much."

"Sorry…"

"No worries! Here's your chance to fix it."

There was her trademark eagerness again. Anna had shifted her body so she was facing him and grabbed a handful of popcorn. Kristoff chuckled.

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Um… what's your favorite color?"

"Really?_ That's_ what you want to know?"

"Might as well start small!" she defended with a playful pout.

"Fair enough. Blue. How about you?"

"Purple. Your turn."

"My turn for what?" he queried.

"To ask a question!" she chirped. "Isn't that how the game works?"

"Okay. Um… what's your favorite food?"

Anna blushed. "I love a good steak. That's bad, I know…"

"Why is that bad?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. What's yours?"

Kristoff looked down at the empty wrapper in his hands with a smile. "Hamburgers. Shocker, right?"

"Oh, good, so you weren't just being nice earlier!" Anna sang. "Um… who's your best friend? Dimitri, right?"

"Why do you say Dimitri?" he wondered aloud.

"You just seem to be around him a lot. You two standing together off to the side is one of the few things I remember from… well, you know. The bar."

"Well, we do get along quite well," Kristoff admitted. "He's a lot more tolerable that Miles."

"Ah, yes, Miles," Anna proclaimed. "Between you and me, he's quite the piece of work."

"I'm pretty sure we aren't the only two who feel that way." They both shared a laugh before Anna reminded him that he had avoided the question. "Ah, right. My best friend. That would be Sven."

"Who's Sven?"

"My dog."

"Oh, you have a dog?!" Anna exclaimed. "What kind? How old is he?"

"He's two, and a mix. He was actually a rescue." He told her the tale about how he made frequent donations to one of the local shelters and visited it often. Sven had been found abandoned on the side of a road in one of the neighboring towns with a broken leg. Kristoff was at the shelter when the then-puppy was brought in, and said he'd take him the second he found an apartment that allowed dogs and had a yard.

"Wow," Anna sighed. "That's such a wonderful story."

"Yeah. He's a good dog. So, who would your best friend be?"

"Um… my sister."

"You two are close?"

Anna nodded. "We are now."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

"Long story. Your turn."

They asked each other questions for the better part of the next half hour while sharing snacks. Kristoff learned a lot about Anna. She had a degree in communications. She'd been to Europe. She played piano and violin. She was fluent in French and could speak some Spanish and Italian. She couldn't draw if her life depended on it. His responses, by comparison, seemed so dull and eventless. As he told her about hiking, playing street hockey, and getting mediocre grades in school, he felt as if he were surely boring her. Anna, however, seemed interested, and always threw in more than her share of questions in pursuit of details. Kristoff was certain this was second nature for her due to her job, but it was nice to be deemed worthy of conversation. It didn't happen often; then again, he hardly allowed it.

Eventually, their back-and-forth came to a lull, and they both looked at the platter. There was still quite a bit left over.

"I made way too much food," Anna murmured.

"Yeah," Kristoff agreed with a chuckle. "You'll know better for next time."

"Next time?" Anna asked in a near-whisper. There was a small, hopeful smile on her face.

"I mean, the next time you have to… uh, whip up a quick lunch for… someone," he finished sheepishly.

"Oh. Yeah, I… I suppose you're right." Anna averted her eyes to the stairs between them and began piling loose containers and napkins onto the platter. "I should probably get back to work. Are you done with your drink? I'll take your cup."

"Uh… yeah, thanks," he said slowly as he handed it over. She sounded dejected, and he was engulfed with guilt. Somehow, he knew that melancholy was his fault. "Anna?"

"Yeah?" She still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I… I didn't mean it that way. I only meant… I…" He sighed, collecting his words. "I didn't mean to sound like I don't want to hang out with you again. I had a really nice time."

Anna looked up at him and crinkled her eyebrows, almost as if she didn't believe him. "Really?"

"Why does that surprise you?"

"I'm not stupid, Kristoff," she said with a shrug. "I know I have a reputation for being bothersome. I'm trying to work on that, but I just… I don't know. I'm alone a lot, so when someone actually talks to me… and there I go again with the rambling. I'm sorry. I'm a mess."

"You're not _bothersome_," he countered. "You're just… lively."

To his delight, she laughed. "Well… thank you. That's kind of you. And I enjoyed this, too. I'll see you around, I guess?"

"Yeah. See you around. Thanks again for the lunch."

"Anytime."

As he watched her make her ascent back to the concourse, he had an idea. He'd probably end up regretting it, seeing as sharing his precious time with others wasn't his forte, but in that moment, he was feeling a little reckless. It was one day; it wouldn't kill him.

"Hey, Anna?" he called.

She was at the top of the stairs by that point. She spun on her heel, the contents on the platter wobbling as she did so.

"Yes?"

"Do you have to work tomorrow?"

"Um, not technically, no," she voiced. "I mean, I'm not scheduled, but I was going to come in for an hour or two to work on something new for the site. Why?"

"Well, I was thinking," he began, "you know how to skate, and I obviously know how to play hockey, and there's ice here, so… uh…"

Her eyes widened. "You… you'd show me how to play?"

Kristoff chuckled. "Well, let's not get carried away. There's a lot you'd have to learn before actually playing. But I can show you a couple of ways to make shots and how to pass, if you want."

"Yes!" she exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. "I mean, if you really don't mind?"

"Not at all. Just bring your skates tomorrow."

"Okay! What time?"

"Um… noon, if that's alright?"

"Noon's perfect!" she sighed. "Thank you, Kristoff. Really. This is… well, thank you. I owe you yet again."

"Oh, will you stop?" he laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow. Remember: skates!"

"I'll remember! Promise!"

Kristoff smiled to himself as she practically skipped out onto the concourse; it was a miracle she didn't drop anything. He wasn't sure why bringing Anna joy made him feel so good, but he wasn't complaining. Contrary to his initial impression, she was a very kind, easygoing person. It saddened him that someone so pleasant was harboring some sort of dark past and being haunted by old demons.

But he tried not to think too much about that, because for once, he was actually looking forward to spending time with someone other than himself. Anna was fun to be around and seemed to have a constant positive attitude, which was a breath of fresh air amongst the cynicism everyone around him, including himself, seemed to pride themselves on. Maybe that's why he found her so endearing.

And those _freckles_, and those _eyes_, and that _hair_… and, god help him, that _bum_…

_Whoa, Bjorgman,_ he warned himself. _That's a slippery slope. Watch it._

And Kristoff did know better than that. At most, Anna could be his friend; a _pretty_ friend, but a friend nonetheless. Nothing more. More would equate to being vulnerable, and he would never let his guard down like that ever again.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! :)


	9. The Idiot's Guide to Slapshots

**Chapter 9: **_**The Idiot's Guide to Slapshots **_

_**-Anna-**_

At ten minutes past twelve the following day, Anna was seated in a row near the ice waiting for Kristoff to emerge. After acknowledging that she was too excited and anxious to accomplish anything, she'd left her office earlier than she'd initially planned. As a result, it was going on forty minutes since she'd first sat down with the duffle bag containing her skates, and she was growing impatient.

As the minutes ticked by, she wondered if Kristoff wasn't coming. She instinctively thought this any time someone made plans with her; she'd been forgotten or plain stood up more than a few times. So what if he'd said having lunch with her was a decent time? That was in the moment. Anna knew perfectly well how opinions often changed when provided the time to mull things over. Kristoff had all of the previous night to recall the small amount of time he'd spent with her, and Anna wouldn't have been the least bit shocked if he'd come to the conclusion that she was a nuisance.

Anna frowned and glanced at her phone once more. It read 12:18. At least, she decided, there were still a few things to do in the office, so at least the day wasn't a total waste. Just as she was slipping her phone back into her pocket, however, it began to vibrate. Her eyebrows crinkled as she glanced at the screen.

_Unknown caller_, it read.

She hesitated to answer it. When she was with Hans, she'd quickly come to learn he often concealed his phone number when they were apart so he could call in and check in on her when they were apart. Anna had never been doing anything worthy of any suspicions on his part, but nonetheless, knowing he was doing it unsettled her, and answering the phone without knowing who was on the other end was always an internal struggle.

She did it anyway.

"Hello?" she greeted with apprehension.

"Hello, Anna?" It was a man with a gruff voice, but it definitely wasn't Hans.

"Who is this?"

"Er… it's Kristoff. Kristoff Bjorgman?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Kristoff, hello! Sorry, I didn't recognize you."

"Are you… I mean, are we still on for today?"

"Yes! Yes, of course. Are you here yet?"

"Yeah, I've been down by the locker room for a while."

"Oh, sorry, I've been in the stands."

"I just figured, you're going to need some gear, and-"

"No, no, of course," Anna mumbled sheepishly. Even in her lonely state, she dipped her head to conceal her reddening cheeks. "You're right. My mistake."

"Sorry," he chuckled. "We… er… we probably should've planned this out a little better. A meeting place, I mean."

"Yeah," she laughed. "Well… I'll be right down!"

"Alright. See you."

Anna grabbed her bag and practically skipped down to the lower corridor where the locker rooms and storage facilities were. She couldn't contain the grin on her face. Someone was going to spend his free time with her, _willingly_. Someone had actually hung on to her phone number_, willingly_. Could it all be over within an hour? Perhaps, but Anna was optimistic. Lunch with Kristoff had gone well. Maybe if their hockey session went well, too… well, how many hang outs did it take for someone to consider another person a friend? Did she actually have a shot at having one?

"There she is!" Kristoff announced to no one once he spotted her hopping down the hallway.

"Hello!" she squeaked with a little too much enthusiasm. Anna silently scolded herself; she sounded like a child.

"Alright, first things first," he said. Kristoff wasn't wasting any time. "You've got to get those skates on. Can't get you the right stick otherwise."

"Okay. Um… is there a place I can sit, or…? I mean, I don't mind sitting on the floor, but-"

Kristoff gestured toward the door on the left. "There're some benches in the locker room."

"Kristoff, I don't think I'm allowed in there…"

He laughed. "There's no one else here. I have to go find you a helmet and some gloves, anyway." He glanced down at her hands for a split second, sizing her up. "I'll be right back."

He didn't give her a second to retort before heading down the hallway. Anna swallowed her pride and stepped into the team's locker room. She held her breath, expecting the place to reek of old sweat and nasty socks, but it actually wasn't that bad. A subtle, musky smell lingered in the air, and Anna was quickly reminded that the team changed clothes there, showered there, strolled around there, _nude_. Her face flushed when the image of twenty or so sweaty, burly men all walking around naked in the very room she stood in flashed before her eyes. Cheeks redder than ever, she sat down and laced up her skates as fast as she could before breezing out of the room.

Kristoff was already in the hallway waiting for her, leaning lazily against the wall. Had he been present in her mental image of naked hockey players?

_No!_ she thought. _Stop it, Anna! Get your filthy mind out of the sewer!_

"Cute skates," he commented with a smirk.

"What?" Anna stammered, glancing down at bright white skates on her feet. "Oh… yeah. I know they're not _hockey_ skates. They're figure skates, but they'll do just as well, right?"

"As long as they work on the ice."

"Er… am I dressed alright?"

Anna had considered wearing the typical things she wore to the gym, like yoga pants and a track jacket, but she'd opted for jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. Now, however, she saw that Kristoff was fully geared up. Perhaps she should have been more prepared.

"You're fine," he assured her. "We aren't doing anything super strenuous today. You'll still need gloves, though. Here, try these. They were the smallest I could find back there."

Anna slipped the black gloves onto her hands. She'd always known hockey gloves were much thicker than regular gloves, but even with that knowledge in mind they seemed bulky. They were a little loose on her petite hands.

"We'll probably have to get you a kids' size," he joked. "I mean, these things tend to run big, so… yeah. But those will suffice for today. Now, for the stick. Are you a righty or lefty?" he asked as he began walking to the nearby stick rack, gesturing for her to follow.

"Righty."

"Alright, so a left stick…" he muttered under his breath, glancing at the stick blades.

"Sorry," Anna said. "I did say righty, didn't I?"

"You did. But that means you'll shoot left, so you need a left stick."

"Huh?"

"It'll make sense later, I promise," Kristoff said, finally selecting a stick. "Okay, just stand like you normally would. No slouching or stretching."

Anna did as instructed, and Kristoff seemed satisfied with his first choice. The top of it came to just below her chin.

"This is a good length for a beginner," he explained. "I've been playing for a long time so I've messed around with stick lengths a bit for myself, but… yeah. If it just about comes up to your chin, that's a good place to start until you get more comfortable."

"You're the expert," Anna said. "I won't argue!"

"Alright. You ready?"

"Ready? I was_ born_ ready!" she asserted happily, only to instantly regret it. Again, she sounded like a little kid, but Kristoff fortunately did not appear to notice.

"Okay. Grab a helmet. Do you mind carrying that bucket? I've got to drag out the goal."

"No problem."

Anna shoved a helmet on her head. With her stick in one hand and the bucket of pucks in the other, she followed Kristoff onto the ice. She gazed around in awe at the empty arena. She'd been on the ice only a couple of times, but it was always on the rollout carpet to present an award or something of the sort. Never had the barrier between the ice and her feet been blades.

"It's pretty spectacular, isn't it?" Kristoff called from the north end of the ice where he was setting up the goal.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I never thought I'd be out here… skating… _playing_…"

"I felt the same way when I first got on this rink. Still do sometimes."

"Did you watch the game a lot growing up?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't always have access to a television, but when I did… yeah, I watched."

"S-sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's alright."

"So… tell me about this stick," she implored, holding it up. "Shit! Sorry!"

"Jesus!" he chortled. The blade had just barely missed his neck. "Be careful with that thing!"

"I'm sorry!" she screeched. "I'm sorry! Sorry…"

"Anna," he interrupted, "if we're going to do this, we need to set up some ground rules. Rule one: stop apologizing for everything."

"Sor-"

"Stop!" he laughed.

"Okay, okay," she huffed. "I promise to try. Fair?"

"Fair. Why do you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?"

"Say you're sorry for everything."

_Because everything has always been my fault_, she answered in her head. Anna didn't vocalize this, though, and instead settled for a shrug. Kristoff thankfully dropped the subject.

"So, the stick," he began. "This confuses a lot of beginners. So many players learned to play on the wrong side when they were first starting. I mean, you can get used to either side… some players have trained themselves to play both… I have… it all comes down to personal preference in the end. Anyway, think of it like holding a shovel. Try that. Pretend we just had a blizzard and this is your driveway. Hold the stick like you would hold a shovel."

Anna adjusted the stick in her hands; her left hand was toward the middle of the shaft and her right was near the top. "Like this?"

"You tell me. Why are you holding it like that?"

"I don't know," Anna confessed. "It just feels natural."

"Exactly." Kristoff used his stick to make a digging motion. "When you shovel, you have your dominant hand at the top controlling the fine movements and exerting the most force, while your other hand is there for support and a little extra power. So, in your case, your right hand is near the top. The same case goes for a hockey stick. If you want the most precision out of your shots and passes, you want your stronger hand at the top."

"Got it."

"So, since your right hand is at the top, the blade falls on the left side of your body. That's why you'd be described as someone who shoots left. I'm at the point in my career where I can manage with either side, but for the most part, I shoot right because I'm naturally a lefty. Make sense?"

"Yeah!" Anna was surprised that in all the years she'd been around hockey, she never knew this miniscule yet important fact. "I'd just always figured 'shoots left' meant left-handed, and vice versa."

"You aren't the only one," Kristoff said. "A lot of times, when kids are first getting into the sport, parents will buy them a right stick because they're right-handed, and they end up learning that way. I mean, they end up comfortable with it given enough time and practice, but it probably would've been easier for them had they started out the correct way. So… yeah. That's why I'm having you try shooting left first. That alright with you?"

"Kristoff, I know nothing about playing hockey," she reminded him. "I'll do whatever you think is best. I'm just glad to be learning anything at all."

"Well, I'm happy to show you. So, now you need to know exactly where your hands should be on the shaft."

"Hm?"

"The shaft. That's the long, wooden part of the stick, and the curved part at the bottom is the blade."

"Yes. Right, of course."

"Okay. We'll start with the top hand first," Kristoff continued. "Now, there's a couple of ways to position your top hand, but that's not one of them. See how the end is sticking out?" He gestured to her stick, where the tail end was nearly in alignment with her elbow. "That wouldn't be very effective in a game; it would hinder shots and general puck handling. In fact, you don't want the end to be showing at all."

Kristoff demonstrated the three most common ways players positioned their tops hands and explained the pros and cons of each. Some players held the stick with their entire hand, while some allowed a finger or two to dangle over the end; evidently, it gave them a bit more flexibility for quick, fine movements.

"Personally, I prefer to have all four fingers covering it, but that's just me. As long as you aren't holding it by curling your fingers underneath like you would while lifting weights, you can do whatever feels right for you."

"I'll do what you do for now," Anna decided, placing her top hand in the proper place.

"Alright. Now, for the bottom hand. Here's what I want you to do: lift your stick straight up in the air," Kristoff instructed. "Good, now, rest the elbow on your left arm on your right hand… excellent… okay, so where your left hand ends up is where you should place it. That's your neutral position. I mean, you'll move it accordingly when taking a shot or passing – we'll get to that later - but if you're just skating, that's generally the spot where your left hand should rest. What?"

Kristoff said all of this very hastily and was so fervent that his directions had escalated into somewhat of a ramble, and Anna couldn't contain her smile. It wasn't condescending or mocking, but admiring. It was rare to someone so inspired by their profession, so eager to share everything they knew. She recalled how withdrawn he'd been during the interview a month before; things between them had changed so much during such a short time and only a few brief interactions.

"Nothing," Anna assured him. "It's just… well, I've spoken with a lot of players, Kristoff. I've never seen someone so passionate."

"Oh," he breathed. Kristoff seemed relieved, yet his cheeks were turning a faint shade of crimson and his eyes looked anywhere but at her. "I've never been the one to teach someone something, you know? I mean, I was never one for academics or anything like that. No one ever asked me for help. Not that I _wanted_ them to, but… yeah. You get it, right? Hockey's all I've ever been good at. It's… I don't know. It's nice to share it for a change. That's stupid, isn't it? Sorry."

"It's not stupid. And hey, that rule applies to you, too, you know."

"Huh?"

"Apologizing?"

"Ah, yes," he conceded with a chuckle. "My mistake."

There was a silent pause between them, and Anna caught herself toying with the end of her braid, an absentminded habit of hers. It was, interestingly enough, the least uncomfortable she'd ever felt during a random break in conversation.

"So," she said after a while.

"So…"

"So… um… any chance I could learn to shoot today?"

"Oh! Right. Yes. Shooting. Obviously very important," he laughed. "Um… what kind of shot would you like to learn? There's quite a few. Most beginners start with wrists shots, and those are probably the most common used in actually games, but-"

"How about a slapshot?" Anna interjected hopefully.

"Er, are you sure? Those are usually one of the last to be learned by new players. They take a lot of practice."

"That's okay. I'm willing to try."

"They're not used as often as you'd think they would."

"That's fine."

"They're… the only type of shot you know the name of, right?" he predicted.

"Maybe," she confessed with a grin.

He laughed. "Alright. Slapshot it is, then. Go big or go home, right?"

"Sounds good to me!"

"Okay. So, the first thing you've got to know about slapshots," he commenced, "is they're actually more often used by defensemen than anyone else. They aren't the type of shots you want to make when you're really close to the goal, or when the opposition is right on your tail, because they take just a little more time to set up than other kinds of shots. So, in a nutshell, defensemen will usually make a slapshot when they're attacking the opposing goal from within their zone, and if they're lucky, it'll end up in the net. Still want to try it?"

"Yes, please."

Kristoff quickly gathered some pucks to center ice and set them up in somewhat of a line.

"Want to watch me first, and I'll talk you through what I'm doing?"

Anna nodded and listened intently as he began very concise, step-by-step instructions on what the movements required of an effective slapshot entailed. He emphasized the importance of pointing the skates toward the puck, keeping one's knees apart and bent, and that a player should transfer their weight from their back leg forward while following through with the shot. He demonstrated on seven pucks; each went straight into the net.

"Wow, you're good," she swooned. "You got each shot!"

"Well, to be fair, I don't have other players chasing after me and I set these up right in front of the goal, so I'm at a bit of an advantage. But thank you. You read to give it a go?"

"Sure!"

Anna gave her best attempt, but for all her enthusiasm, she didn't even come close. To say the puck went wide would be an understatement: it hit the corner glass, bounced back, and landed in the nearby face-off zone.

"I suck," she mumbled.

"No, you don't," Kristoff said. "It's your first time. With a little practice, you'll be the next Bobby Orr. I'm sure of it."

"Kristoff, _no one_ will ever be the next Bobby Orr."

"That's probably true. Give it another try."

She took a few more shots following Kristoff's initial instructions, fixing things when he would throw out advice tailored to her specific needs. When all the pucks were scattered across the end of the rink, they gathered them together and picked things up at center ice again. At one point, Kristoff swapped sticks to match Anna's so he could model the proper motions right alongside her.

Finally, a half hour and countless attempts later, a puck Anna sent flying across the rink barely missed the post, tucking just inside the net and landing in the corner.

"I got it!" she shouted in glee. "I got it! I got it!"

Amid her elation, she dropped her stick, which clattered against the ice. The ice itself was what Anna forgot about, for she jumped in the air, only to slip once her skates returned to the ground. She landed flat on her back. The high ceiling spun above her, and the banners dangling from it looked like a mobile that hung above an infant's crib.

"Anna! Are you alright?" Kristoff exclaimed, slanting his skates to a halt and accidentally causing a bit of slush to land on her face. "Oh, no! Sorry! I didn't mean that!"

"Who cares?" Anna laughed, wiping away the mushy ice as if it were only flecks of dust. "I scored a goal! I actually did it!"

"Congratulations," Kristoff declared with a smile. "It was a great shot. I told you you'd get it. You sure you're okay? How's your head?"

"I'm alright. Promise."

He offered a hand to help pull her back to her feet. Anna teetered on the spot for a moment, not daring to move a muscle until she stopped seeing three Kristoffs in front of her. Once the dizziness ceased, she noticed just how close she was standing to him. Given, it was because he'd just helped lift her clumsy ass off the rink, but that was beside the point. She realized that, even while forgiving the height added by the skates, that Kristoff was a very large man. He looked like an average guy when he was beside his teammates, and perhaps he was. Anna remembered from writing his interview that Kristoff was just shy of six feet tall; that as hardly an anomaly, but to her petite self, he was huge. His shoulders were broad and he had thick, chiseled arms. Anna suspected that were it any other man of such size standing before her in seclusion, she would have been terrified beyond belief.

"So, um…"

"Yeah…"

"That's another lesson for you, I suppose," Kristoff chortled. "Even while practicing, always wear a helmet. Never know when a mishap will happen."

"Yeah," Anna sheepishly agreed, pulling the helmet from her head. For a brief moment, she worried about how awful her hair must have looked. "It certainly came in handy."

"So… er… I guess we'll call in a day, then?"

"Y-yeah," she stammered. "I think I've caused enough trouble for one day. But I had so much fun. Thank you, Kristoff."

"Of course. I had fun, too. Would you… um…" He'd taken his helmet off, too, and he combed a wobbly hand through his sweaty hair. A lock of it fell in front of his face. Anna couldn't keep her eyes off it.

"Would I…?"

"I mean… if you want… I mean, we never did get around to passing, and there's a few other shots I can show you… and of course, there's always face-offs, and…"

"Kristoff," she interrupted softly, not even needing him to ask the actual question. "I'd love to. I'm flattered. Thank you."

"What are you doing Sunday afternoon?"

Anna smiled. "Playing hockey, I guess!"

"Awesome. Same time?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Alright. Alright, cool. I'll… I'll just see you then?"

"Yeah. And the gloves and helmet?" Anna lifted the equipment in her hands. "And the stick?"

"Just leave them in the hallway across from the locker room. I'll put them back later. I have to clean up all this stuff, anyway."

"Would you like some help?"

"Nah," Kristoff said, shaking his head. "I'm going to practice a bit first. We've got Montreal in two days."

"Ah, yes. The infamous Canadiens. If I don't see you before then, best of luck. And again, thank you so much for today. I had a wonderful time. Thanks for being so patient with me. You should write one of those hockey how-to books."

Kristoff laughed. "You mean the Idiot Guides? I'll give it some thought. See you around."

"See you around."

Anna skated back toward the hallway, dropping her helmet when she was halfway there. She was quite proud of herself for not falling over when she bent to grab it. Once she was at the small door, she heard Kristoff chuckle behind her.

"Anna, that's the penalty box," he informed her.

"Oh! Right! Sor… I mean, thank you," she amended, turning around to give him a final, appreciative way. She found the proper exit and headed down the hallway. As instructed, she dropped her gear off beside the locker room, then proceeded to remove her skates and head back upstairs.

Her original intention had been to get some work done at the end of their hockey session, but Anna decided that she had to get out of that building. She had to get away from Kristoff Bjorgman, and _fast_.

All she'd wanted was a friend. She wanted someone she could talk to and laugh with: nothing more, nothing less. But something happened after she fell on that ice, after he'd helped her up. The cold on her back had morphed into a tingling warmth everywhere, and she knew it was Kristoff's fault. Why had he looked at her like that with that piercing gaze, with those chocolate eyes that were simultaneously tender and intimidating?

Whatever the reasoning was – if there was any to begin with – Anna now couldn't get his face out of her head. His handsome face. His strong body. His kindness, his mystique, his charisma, his gentle severity…

It meant nothing, she decided. She didn't have a crush on him. She _couldn't_ have a crush on him. Crushes were something that young girls had on the boy next door, anyway. They weren't something for grown women with professional relationships to maintain.

Even with that in mind, she couldn't ignore the fact that she was suddenly more excited than ever to begin her travels with the team soon.

_It's because you have a friend now_, she unconvincingly reminded herself. _That's all. You have a friend. Who wouldn't be excited about that?_

But she wasn't supposed to want to kiss a friend.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! I can't believe the chapters hit the double digits after this. Never thought I'd make it this far! :)

See you soon!


	10. Trivia Tuesday

**Chapter 10: **_**Trivia Tuesday **_

_**-Kristoff-**_

As mid-November approached, so did a new stretch of away games, and the team's final round of practice before departing was over. The following day, they would head south, first stopping in Tampa Bay for what was likely to be a challenging divisional matchup against the Lightning. Then it was onto Miami, Raleigh, and a double night in Washington. Kristoff had already packed a few changes of clothes in his lone carry on suitcase and would add other essentials in the evening; he never needed more than that, and management took care of his uniform and gear.

He stood in one of the locker room's private shower stalls, lazily scrubbing his scalp and taking his time. Normally, Kristoff didn't care if he showered in private or not; in fact, he typically used the communal shower for a quick rinse after practice or a game, opting to wait until he got home for a more thorough cleaning. But that time, he didn't have that option, because Adgar Arendelle had called for a team meeting immediately following the afternoon practice session.

As such, Kristoff had briskly retreated to one of the private stalls not because he desired a lengthy shower, but because he wanted a moment away from everyone before having to rejoin them for an undetermined amount of time. He got antsy, and even exhausted sometimes, when he was around others for too long. Even at the social gatherings and parties he seldom attended, he had to take what he liked to call "people breaks" frequently; he usually accomplished this by ducking into a restroom for a few minutes without the need to actually use it.

The suds were rinsed from his scalp and skin, but Kristoff lingered beneath the stream of lukewarm water, allowing it to cascade down his bare body. As much as he liked and respected Mr. Arendelle, team meetings were usually pointless. The only thing that mattered to Kristoff about the rest of the league was the current standings; he didn't give two shits about anything else. Anything regarding trades that may change up the game play of other teams could easily be discussed during practice. There wasn't, in his opinion, a need for a separate gathering. The time spent during a team meeting could have been put to such better use, like taking Sven for a walk or showing Anna some more hockey moves.

_Anna_. She was becoming a staple in his life, and Kristoff wasn't sure what to make of that. He'd offered to play hockey with her once to be nice and because, yes, he'd enjoyed their spontaneous lunch of junk food together; he hadn't expected that to result in four other sessions over the past couple weeks, and for each one to be more fun than the last. In fact, Kristoff had been at the arena on each of his days off since returning from the west coast, _willingly_, just so he could hang out with Anna.

In an attempt to protect his feelings, he chalked it up to her being attractive each time he thought about it, which was often. Kristoff wasn't ready to admit that he'd found a friend in Anna and he was beginning to care about her. Perhaps, he'd subconsciously decided, if he reduced her to a curvy body with a pretty face, it would be easier to accept his desire to spend time with her. It wasn't all that difficult of a thing to do, especially since that first day they played hockey together; she'd bent over to reclaim the helmet she dropped, and as he took an innocent glance at her bum, he noticed the hem of her sweatshirt had ridden up, exposing her lower back and the two dimples that resided there.

Before Kristoff knew it, his shaft was rock solid and begging to be touched. He gingerly brought a hand to it for a fleeting moment, withholding a gasp upon the contact. He wanted to… oh, how he wanted to touch himself has he replayed a recently constructed fantasy in his head… but what about the meeting? It wouldn't do to be late, and seeing as he claimed a private shower stall when he usually did not, well… his teammates weren't stupid. They'd put two and two together and razz him for it, and not quietly.

Nonetheless, he stared at the shower handle, the rational part of his brain urging him to push it further toward blue and forget about Anna. But what was a few more minutes, anyway? The chatter in the background was a good indicator that much of the team was still in the locker room. If he was quick, he had a decent chance of mingling with everyone else as they left. Even if he was a couple minutes behind the rest, there always had to be one guy who left last. Content with that idea, he pushed the handle a smidge closer to red, closed his eyes, wrapped his hand around his cock, and allowed his mind to run wild.

_Anna's skating away, and he can't take his eyes off her. He giggles quietly to himself when she drops her helmet; she's such an adorable, clumsy girl. The chuckle quickly evolves into a sharp intake of breath. Her jeans stretch tightly over her behind as she bends forward to reclaim the lost gear, and her sweatshirt rides up. She has dimples on either side of her spine, just above the hem of her jeans, just above that beautiful ass… _

He stroked himself slowly, steadily.

_She skates toward the wrong door. _Anna, that's the penalty box_, he wants to inform her, but he doesn't. Instead, he watches her as she opens the door, quickly and coyly glancing over her shoulder, and stepping inside. She doesn't close the barrier. She waits for him, silently beckons for him to join. So he does._

His breathing quickened.

_He places strong hands on her shoulders once he reaches her, his torso to her back, and he leans down to speak to her._

"_You know this box is for people who've broken the rules," he whispers. "It's meant to be a punishment."_

_She leans close to his lips, so close that he can practically taste the sweet sweat glistening on her neck. _

"_So punish me."_

He invigorated his hand, stroking himself faster, faster…

_He wastes no time. He reaches around her middle, tearing at the button and zipper of her jeans, and yanks them down with her panties. After undoing his own pants, he bends her over the bench, and she moans in excitement. He grabs two handfuls of the flawless ass now on display, the ass he'd fantasized about more times than he could remember or count. The soft spanks he gives it result in the most erotic cracking sound, the moans she elicits so voluptuous… he aches for her… she wiggles her hips to invite him…_

"_Fuck me, Bjorgman."_

His hand pumped faster, harder, faster, harder…

_He drives into her from behind, sliding into her slick, warm center as she cries out in euphoria. His thumbs settle into those two lower back dimples as he roughly grips her hips, not allowing her a chance to pull away. He isn't tender or romantic, but primal, beastly. He repeatedly slams into her, relishing in the sound that ricochets in his ears when his torso smacks against her perfect little ass. Her moans echo in the high walls of the arena, getting louder and louder until she's nearly sobbing, wailing his name over and over. She throbs around him, her center getting wetter…_

"_Kristoff! Kristoff! Oh… Kristo… yes… YES! Mm!" _

_And then…_

"Mmph!" Kristoff softly moaned through pursed lips as his very real orgasm quaked through his entire being. The evidence of his pleasure shot from him as he desperately tried to quiet his heavy breaths, to _not_ allow a gasp or groan. "Anna…"

His mind was hazy and his vision slightly blurred when he shut off the water and began to dry off a couple minutes after. It didn't take long for the guilt to settle in. Anna was a nice girl, and lately all he could think about while having a wank was smacking her bottom and fucking her like an animal. She deserved better than that, even in fantasy. She deserved a bed at the very least, not the filthy penalty box and a wooden bench.

_It's just your imagination_, he thought. _There's nothing wrong with that. If you ever got the chance to really be with her, you'd treat her right. You know that. Not that you _want_ to really be with her, of course. Not like _that_. And who knows? Maybe she's one of those feisty girls behind closed doors. Maybe she likes it rough from time to time. Maybe she likes a good spanking, having her hair pulled, getting it so hard she can barely walk after…_

Kristoff stopped his train of thought the second he realized the voice in his head was beginning to sound like Miles.

He hastily dressed and departed the stall, and as he expected, he was the only one left in the locker room; even Andre, who was notorious for taking forever, was already gone. Kristoff shoved his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt and made his way toward the exhibition hall. The large, high-ceilinged room was somewhat of an annex to the actual venue that usually got rented out for job fairs and school art shows.

"Hello, Kristoff!"

Kristoff turned around to see Mr. Arendelle making his way down the hall at a rapid pace.

"Good afternoon, Sir."

"How's your day so far?"

"Fine. Practice went well. How about you?"

"Very well, thank you. Just doing last-minute preparations for the trip tomorrow. It's funny how no matter how many times we travel, it always seems rushed to the very last minute."

"Oh, you're coming along this time?

"Yes. I hated having to miss the last away stretch. Couldn't skip this one, though, especially seeing as it's Anna's first time tagging along, and-"

"Wait, what?" Kristoff blurted. "Sorry. I… you mean, Anna from Fan Relations? The one who did my interview?"

"That's the one. Not a lot of people know this, but she's actually my daughter."

"Yeah… yeah, I kind of figured from the surname. So… she's coming with us?"

"I'm afraid I've said too much already," Adgar laughed. "Can't spoil the entire meeting, now, can I?"

Adgar gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder before opening the door to the exhibition hall. Kristoff could feel the blush creep across his face. It was the shoulder of his left arm, therefore attached to the hand that had, just moments before, brought him to the most sinful finish as he envisioned himself banging Adgar's youngest daughter. He kept his head low as he plopped down in the back row of fold-out chairs set up in front of a projector.

"Thank you all for taking the time to join me today," Adgar addressed the team cheerfully. "I intend for this meeting to be brief. I know you all have to prepare for tomorrow and get some rest. Before we jump into other matters, let me just remind you that our flight leaves from Terminal C at 10:40 tomorrow morning. Please plan to be at the airport no later than nine so we can all check in together. Any questions?" He was responded to with silence. "Excellent! Alright… Ernie, if you could please turn on the projector… thank you! Alright, just as a quick review, here are our current divisional and conference standings."

Kristoff was most interested in what the division looked like: they were third of eight, behind only Detroit and Montreal, but Tampa Bay was closing in on them. They were fifth overall in the conference, meaning that if the playoffs were to start the following day, they would not have home ice advantage. He didn't like that.

_Cool it, Bjorgman. It's only November_, he reminded himself. _There's still five months to go._

He spaced out while Adgar stressed the importance of the upcoming game against Tampa Bay and explained how a loss could result to them tumbling to seventh in the conference if Buffalo fell to Philadelphia on the same night. Kristoff only tuned back in when he heard the distant clatter of the exhibition hall door closing, followed by the clicking of a woman's high heels. Anna had stepped in and stood off to the side of the projection screen. Kristoff kept his eyes on Adgar's presentation and put in his best effort to appear interested, but in reality he was using his peripherals to look at Anna. She was holding a clipboard but was not jotting down any notes, leading him to assume she was presenting.

Kristoff's suspicions were confirmed only a couple of minutes later. The projection screen went black, and Adgar smiled.

"Now, if I could steal just a few more minutes from you," he declared, "I'd like to welcome Anna from Fan Relations to the floor. Anna?"

Anna cleared her throat and timidly stepped forward. Kristoff glanced around at his teammates and caught sight of Miles; he had a smug looked on his face as he leaned back in his chair and puffed his chest out a bit.

_Dirtbag_, Kristoff thought.

"Thank you," Anna said, nodding toward her father before turning her attention to the team. "Forgive me, I'm not very good with public speaking, but I… well, I'm here to talk about the youth hockey program. This year, it will be on January sixteenth, so it won't interrupt the all-star break at the end of the month. However, it will be on a game-free Saturday. I realize and respect that may be a hefty sacrifice for many of you, but I'm looking for at least five volunteers who'd be willing to devote a couple hours of their free time to engage with some young players. We're aiming to have about twenty kids between eight and twelve years old participating. You don't have to make any hasty decisions," she quickly added, "but I'm hoping to know exactly which team members will be helping out by the end of the month at the latest. That said, please call or e-mail me at your earliest convenience if you're willing to participate, or just swing by my office. And… that's all I have to say, actually, unless anyone has any questions or comments?" When no one offered anything, she nodded and smiled. "Right. Thank you all very much for your time."

If Anna hadn't mentioned that public speaking wasn't her strong suit, Kristoff doubted anyone would have noticed. She didn't stammer once during her brief speech and she hadn't fidgeted with the clipboard in her hand at all; in fact, she hadn't even looked at the thing for reference.

Anna hurried out of the exhibition hall, not even realizing that more than half the team was eyeing her, and Adgar could only chuckle to himself.

"She forgot to mention the most important part," he announced once she left. "Until further notice, Anna will be traveling with us during away games. Fan Relations has begun a new project relating to fans outside of the immediate area, and Anna will be seeing it to fruition. Yes, Troy?"

"When will she begin traveling with us?" Troy Pavalov asked.

"Tomorrow!" Adgar said happily. "All right, that wraps it up for today. Thanks again, everyone. See you in the morning. Remember: nine o'clock!" Agdar straightened his tie and briskly exited the hall while the team took their time getting up and heading for the door.

"Well," Jeff Wyatt loudly proclaimed once Adgar was long gone, "looks like somebody's getting laid on this trip!"

"Fuck yeah, and it's gonna be me!" Miles broadcasted.

"Oi, that's Bjorgman's girl you're talking about," Troy said. "Respect!"

Kristoff shot Troy a look, prepared to retort that Anna was _not _"his" girl, but Troy winked at him. Dimitri was behind him, nodding as if he were telling him to go with it. He instantly understood.

"That's right," Kristoff declared. "She's mine. Back off."

"Yeah? I don't see your name tattooed on her ass."

"You saw her ass?" Kristoff had no idea who asked that.

"It's a figure of speech, you dumb fuck," Miles shot back.

"The point is," Kristoff interjected, "I wouldn't try to mess around with _your_ girl, Langlois. Show mine the same respect. And that goes for all of you."

Miles threw up his hands as if to surrender. "Fine, fine. That's fair. But if things don't work out… well, she's hot, man. I'm just saying."

"Yeah, yeah," Kristoff mumbled. "I've got it."

The rest of the team filtered out until only Kristoff, Troy, and Dimitri were left.

"Thanks," Kristoff said. "She's a nice girl. Anything to keep Langlois's slimy paws off her, right?"

"Who cares about Langlois," Troy said. "C'mon, you can tell us. What's going on between you and her? We won't give you shit."

"What are you talking about?"

"If only you had a mirror so you could see yourself every time she's nearby," Troy said with a smirk. "And what's this I hear about you playing hockey with her on your day off?"

Kristoff frowned. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"You aren't the only one that likes to use the rink on off days," Dimitri chimed in. "Tatyana was at one of her mommy-to-be groups last Thursday, so I came in to practice. The rink was already taken."

"Alright," Kristoff sighed. "So I'm showing her how to play hockey. We're friends. That's all. We aren't, like, _dating _or anything."

"That's how it always starts," Troy sang. "C'mon, can't you at least admit that she's pretty?"

"Fine! She's pretty! Happy now?"

"Gonna try to spend time with her down in Florida?" he egged on. "Maybe take her out on a real date?"

"What? No!" Kristoff exclaimed. "We're friends, guys. _Friends_. And even if I wanted to – which I don't! – it's not like there's a whole lot of opportunities to do it. If we aren't playing a game, we're traveling, and if we aren't traveling… well, we've got to sleep sometime."

"Right," Troy sniggered. "Well, when you two _do_ end up together, do me a favor and let me know. I'll stop looking the moment she's yours."

"Christ, Pavalov!"

"What? She's gorgeous!" Troy laughed. "Cut a guy some slack, will you?"

Troy headed out, leaving Kristoff with Dimitri for a moment.

"Did you really see us?" Kristoff asked.

"Yeah," Dimitri said. "Who cares, though? You were having a good time. No harm done."

"Yeah, but… I don't know," Kristoff sighed. "I don't want people getting the wrong idea. I mean, look at Pavalov."

"He's just messing with you. But seriously… you like her?"

"Anna? Yeah, she's nice."

"You know what I mean, Bjorgman."

Kristoff wasn't sure how to answer that. Did he think she was beautiful? Yes. Did he enjoy her company? Surprisingly, yes. Did he want to sleep with her? Considering what happened just a short while ago, yes. Did he think about her a lot, even when she wasn't around? Well… yeah. Would he care if she was hurt, sick, or unhappy?

_You would_, Kristoff thought. _You know you would. Hell, you already have._

"What does it matter?" he huffed.

"Bjorgman, c'mon," Dimitri reasoned. "I'm not stupid. Some girl broke your heart, right?"

"So?"

"So, that was then. It's over. Forget about it."

"Easier said than done, Mateev."

"Yeah, but… look. You're one of the good ones. Whether you think so or not, you deserve to be happy, and being out on the rink with Anna was honestly the happiest I've ever seen you." When Kristoff shrugged, Dimitri continued. "I mean, do whatever you want, but you're my friend and I hate seeing you miserable all the damn time. All I'm saying is you deserve another shot, and maybe that's Anna. Just something to think about, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," Kristoff mumbled.

"Right. Well, I'm meeting Tatyana for lunch, so I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Yeah. See you."

Kristoff, having already stowed his wallet and keys in his pocket, exited directly from the exhibition hall and began to make his way down the sidewalk. The wind was strong and bitter cold that day, striking his face like needles; for a moment, Kristoff regretted taking the long way to the North Station, but he needed the distraction.

He knew Dimitri meant well and only said what he did to be kind, but it was driving Kristoff crazy. Was he really at his happiest with Anna? And if he was, was she at her happiest when she was with him, too? That was a good thing, right? Any logical person would think so.

Only it _wasn't_ a good thing. What Dimitri didn't understand was Kristoff didn't want to be happy again, at least not in such a way. He liked the idea of love. He liked to dream about settling down with a woman in his New Hampshire home, starting a family, and having that picture-perfect life that could only be found in books and movies.

That, however, was the problem: such happiness existed solely in fiction. Kristoff had learned that the hard way. In real life, people hurt you, _use_ you. They only keep you around when it's convenient, dropping you the second something better comes along. Or when _someone_ better comes along. Someone with money, a family, and a cushy office job with normal hours and weekends off. Someone who wasn't _him_.

Kristoff knew better. Anna was nice. So what? Marissa had been nice, too, and he wasn't going to make that mistake a second time.

* * *

Kristoff pressed the downward arrow and mindlessly glanced around the hallway as he waited for the elevator. They were staying in a decent hotel: nothing fancy, but it was clean and quiet, and that was all that mattered to him. There was a bar and grille connected to the hotel lobby, which Kristoff decided was where he'd grab a quick dinner. He knew Miles wouldn't be there, having heard him telling a few of the guys there was a gentlemen's club down the street, and that was enough for him.

As if on default, he strolled into the elevator once he heard the door open, keeping his head down as he normally did. In fact, he didn't even notice there was already someone in it.

"Hello," came the familiar voice.

Kristoff's face flushed when he glance to his right, because there stood Anna, all cute and casual like she had been that night at the bar, minus the drunkenness. She was wearing jeans that snugly hugged her legs, a black track jacket with twin silver stripes down the sides, and a pair of worn-out, navy blue sneakers. Her hair was twisted in her signature braids.

"Oh, hey," he said as smoothly as possible.

"Where're you off to?"

"Me? Oh… um, just grabbing some dinner. You?"

"Me, too. I thought about room service, but it's been so long since I've traveled, so I thought it'd be nice to get out. No idea where I'm going, though. Thought I'd go for a walk and see what I find."

"On your own?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing," Kristoff said. "Nothing. Just ignore me."

"I always do," she murmured playfully.

"Ha. Thanks."

"So where're you headed?"

"Hm?"

"For dinner," Anna elaborated.

"Oh. I'm just going to check out the little restaurant in the lobby."

"Ah, right. I saw that when we came in. It looked sufficient enough."

Kristoff glanced at her for a moment. She was staring straight ahead, chewing on her lip. Did she want an invite, or was she just making conversation? He wanted to invite her, but that, he knew, was a trap. He'd pushed the limits with hockey; who knew what would happen if he added restaurants to the mix? Restaurants led to movies, to staying in together, to falling in love, to inevitable heartbreak.

"You wanna come along?" Kristoff asked against his better judgement. The way her eyes lit up almost made it worth it.

"Me?" she squeaked. "Oh, um… sure! Yeah, I guess I could check it out!"

"Cool."

They stepped out of the elevator once it reached the ground level, and Kristoff made sure he kept a respectable distance from her. This wasn't a date, and he didn't want anyone who may have spotted them to think so. He and Anna were just friends. They were two friends on what was, in a roundabout way, a business trip, going to have a brief meal and possibly a drink or two. That was the plan, anyway, until they stepped into the restaurant, where they were immediately greeted by the sight of Dimitri, Troy, and Andre at one of the tables.

"Yes! Bjorgman! Perfect!" Troy exclaimed, pointing at them. "We need you!"

"Um…" he muttered, shifting his eyes toward Anna. Her face fell when Troy came bounding toward them.

"C'mon, man, we need you for our team!" he said, grabbing his arm.

"Team for what?"

"It's Trivia Tuesday, apparently!" he chanted. "We can't have a team of just three. C'mon. Top prize is a free round of beers!"

"You go ahead," Anna said softly so only Kristoff could hear. "I'll just- hey!" she yelped when Troy took her by the hand.

"You too, Red! The more, the merrier! C'mon!"

As Troy all but dragged the pair of them to the table to join Dimitri and Andre, Kristoff and Anna glanced at each other and smiled.

"Alright, you lot, it's on me tonight," Dimitri said. "What's everyone drinking?"

"Bud," Andre and Troy said in unison.

"I'll take a Sammy. Thanks, man," Kristoff said.

"Cool. How about you?" he asked, pointing at Anna.

"Huh?"

"What're you drinking?"

"Oh, um," she mumbled nervously. "I'll just have what Kristoff's having?"

"Sounds good. I'll get some apps for the table, too. Same as always?"

"Sure," Andre said before looking at Anna. "You okay with wings and nachos, Red?"

"Um… yeah?" When Andre nodded in approval, she leaned in toward Kristoff and whispered, "why is everyone calling me Red?"

Kristoff chuckled. "Well, they can't call you Arendelle. That's what we call your dad."

"Yeah, but why can't they just call me Anna?"

He shrugged. "The same reason they don't call me Kristoff."

Their drinks and food arrived shortly, and soon after, the trivia tournament started. The participating tables were provided with whiteboards and dry-erase markers, and all players were instructed to put their phones away.

"Alright, everyone," the girl at the bar announced into a microphone. "Here's your first question: which country has the northernmost national capital in the world?"

As they all hovered over the table, the team began to quietly make suggestions.

"Canada?" Troy offered.

"No, I think it's Russia," Kristoff countered.

"Not Russia," Dimitri said. "There are plenty further north than Moscow. I would know."

"He's right. Not Russia," Andre agreed. "Maybe Sweden? I don't know. Red?"

"Um," Anna began nervously, "I'm pretty sure it's Iceland. Reykjavik."

"I thought no one lived in Iceland," Troy said, "because it's covered in ice. Why would it have a capital?"

"No, Greenland's the one that's covered in ice," Kristoff corrected.

"Then why the hell is it called Greenland?!"

"Guys, c'mon, we need an answer," Andre urged. "Go with Iceland."

"We don't have to go with what I said," Anna tried to say, but Dimitri was already writing it on the board and held it up when the announcer called for final answers.

"And the correct answer is… Iceland!" she said. "So that's a point for tables two, three, four, and eight!"

"Nice job, Red!"

"Awesome!"

"Good going!"

"Well done," Kristoff whispered to her.

She smiled at him, and he could see her begin to relax, just like she'd done during their lunch together. It wasn't what Kristoff had expected the evening to be; he'd been anticipating a quiet night alone, but it turned out that what he got was so much better. Within three trivia questions, he was actually having fun. The drinks and food kept coming, and being social wasn't a burden for once. The fact that Anna was enjoying herself as well made it a thousand times better.

Just shy of an hour later, the game came to an end, and their team managed to finish in second place. They didn't win anything, but that was okay; by that point, they were too consumed with banter and laughter to care all that much about the prize. They all huddled together when Dimitri wanted to snap a photo of them with the scoreboard, showcasing their almost-victory.

Late that night, Kristoff was lying awake in bed when his phone suddenly dinged at him, signaling a text message. He lazily grabbed it from his nightstand, squinting at the blinding light emitting from the tiny screen. The notification read: _One (1) new message from Mateev_. Kristoff tapped it to reveal the text from Dimitri:

_Thought you might want to have this._

It was followed by the photo he'd taken in the restaurant. Troy was front and center, proudly holding up their score and giving a thumbs-up. Dimitri's face was in the corner, barely there, as he'd been the one taking the picture. Andre was on the right, blinking. Kristoff had actually managed to smile. Between him and Andre, but leaning a bit more closely toward him, was Anna. Her eyes were twinkling and her smile was wide, clearly in the middle of laughing from pure joy.

He stared at Anna for a long time. She was _so_ pretty, so full of life, and just as he had done for many past nights, he began to think about her, only this time it was different. He didn't think of her naked or begging to be taken by him. Instead, Kristoff thought only of spending time with her in the simplest ways. He imagined going for walks with her, taking her to the movies, gazing at her over a candlelit dinner, and bringing her flowers. He fantasized about just lying in bed with her, face to face with their heads on their pillows, holding hands beneath the covers, and talking about both everything and nothing.

And he really, truly wanted that. That terrified him. Despite all his fear of committing again, of allowing himself to be vulnerable around another person, something about Anna made him think that maybe it was worth the risk. He wanted to be the guy who could make her smile the way she did in the photograph. Had Dimitri been right the day before? Should he take a shot with Anna? Did she even want him to? Maybe she didn't see him that way.

His phone dinged again with another message from Dimitri.

_She's a nice girl, man. I like her._

Kristoff smiled, even as the thing he didn't want to admit pushed his way into his mind. He reluctantly allowed it.

_I like her, too_, he thought.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay on this one. I'm leaving for vacation in a few days, and I've been busy preparing. Perhaps I can get Chapter 11 done in the airport. One can dream, right?! :p

Thanks for reading!


	11. Sister Talk

**Chapter 11: _Sister_ **_**Talk**_

_**-Elsa-**_

As long as she was not the person arriving to or departing from it, Elsa didn't mind the airport. She wasn't afraid of flying, but nonetheless wasn't its biggest fan. Everything about the air travel experience, from the security process to being crammed in a narrow tube with complete strangers for a few hours, was not her cup of tea. Given the choice, Elsa would opt to drive to her destination, even if it took a few extra hours or days.

Anna, on the other hand, loved flying. She'd been nearly jumping up and down in her seat when Elsa drove her to the airport the previous week, and was now all smiles as she skipped out of the arrivals gate. Elsa waved, and Anna came bounding over, screeching her sister's name.

"Elsa!" Anna threw her arms around her, and Elsa laughed while hugging her back. "Ooh, I'm so happy to see you! I missed you!"

"I missed you, too," Elsa said. "How was your trip?"

"Oh, Elsa, it was amazing! I have so much to tell you! This new project is going to be spectacular! Oh, and I finally got to do a trivia night! We came in second place!"

"Can't wait to hear all about it. How about over lunch? I'm starving."

"Ooh, yes, please! All I had on the plane was a tiny bag of pretzels."

The two sisters proceeded to carousel eleven to fetch Anna's lone checked bag. As they waited, Anna simultaneously yammered to Elsa about her trip and waved to members of the teams as they, too, waited for their luggage. Elsa chuckled to herself; Anna's enthusiasm for even the simplest and most mundane activities never failed to amuse her. Hardly anyone around her was paying her any attention, but that didn't stop her from smiling and waving farewell to anyone who happened to meet her glance for a fraction of a second. As the carousel began to move and bags started appearing, Elsa noticed Anna wasn't keeping a lookout for her suitcase. Instead, her eyes were darting around at the crowd of people circling around the parade of luggage that was moving at the pace of a sloth.

"Looking for someone?" Elsa queried.

"What? Oh, no," she stammered. "Just…um… making sure everyone is at the right carousel, you know? Sometimes it's hard to hear the announcement. I think some people carried on, though, so… ooh! There's my bag! Excuse me! Pardon me, sorry!"

As Anna tried to scoot her way through the wall of people, Elsa, too, scoped out the crowd. The majority of the team was there, as far as she could tell, but Elsa quickly noticed that Kristoff Bjorgman was nowhere to be seen. From what little she knew of him, he did seem like the type who would pack light, and only in a bag small enough to carry on so he could avoid baggage claim.

"Okay, so! Where to?" Anna asked upon her return, pulling her purple suitcase behind her. "You want to grab something here or go somewhere else?"

"Are you kidding? Let's get out of here. What do you feel like?"

"Honestly, I'd eat anything right about now. My stomach won't stop growling!"

They ended up at Bernie's, a frequent haunt of their's and only a short walk from Anna's apartment. It was a quaint, family-owned, hole-in-the-wall diner that had been there probably since the dawn of time and served the most crispy, delicious French fries. They started out with a basket of those as they waited for their sandwiches.

"So," Elsa commenced, "let's hear all about this trip of yours."

"Well, first of all, the project is off to a fantastic start," Anna answered happily. She lathered a fry in ketchup before chomping down. "We got a lot of good responses and all of the fans seemed genuinely pleased to be included at away games. Have you looked at the website lately? I've been updating the blog as often as I can, but I've been so tired! Traveling is exhausting!"

"That it is. And yes, I did have a look. It looks great so far! So you got a lot of participants?"

"Um… yeah, I suppose so. There were more in Florida than Raleigh and Washington, but Florida's a transplant state, so-"

"A transplant state? What on Earth does that mean?"

Anna giggled. "It's something Kristoff told me while we were down there. A lot of people from up north head south for the winter, or move there permanently. So, there's a lot of out-of-market fans there. I mean, the Florida teams have a ton of their own fans, of course, but there's a lot of supporters of the away teams in those two arenas. More than average, anyway."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it," Elsa commented, though she wasn't solely talking about the witty nickname the team used for Florida. Anna's cheeks pinkened at the mention of Kristoff and her blue eyes briefly lit up in the way they once did in her early days with Hans. Elsa's stomach churned before she reminded herself that she was, again and like always, leaping to unfair conclusions. "So, you spent a lot of time with Kristoff while on the road?"

Anna took a large gulp of her Sprite and shook her head. "Not really. I mean, I was with the whole team and Kristoff is part of that, so… yeah. I guess I did. Well… okay, there was this one time in Raleigh we stopped at the arcade. Yes, there was an arcade on the same street as our hotel. Can you believe it?! I hadn't been to an arcade since we were kids! Ooh, remember the time when we were at the beach and Dad let us play Whack-A-Mole until we had enough tickets to win that stuffed parrot? What was his name… oh, Jojo! Remember him? We had him for _ages_! Whatever happened to him? I loved that parrot. Anyway… yeah, so, we went to the arcade," Anna finished sheepishly, finally catching herself in a ramble. "Me and Kristoff, I mean. Just for a little while. We were on our way to dinner."

"Dinner?" Elsa asked, raising an eyebrow. "You two had dinner?"

"With the rest of the team," Anna added hastily. "Well, not everyone, but most of them. Dad was there, too. We were just early, so we stopped in the arcade to kill some time, you know? We played a few games of Skee-Ball and left. Oh, and I tried pinball again, but you and I both know how long that usually lasts."

"But you walked there together?"

"We happened to cross paths in the hotel lobby. We didn't, like, _plan_ it or anything," Anna defended. "You can stop now. I know what you're doing."

"What?"

"You're grilling me."

"I'm not _grilling_ you," Elsa said calmly. "I'm just asking about your trip."

"You just seem awfully interested in Kristoff, that's all. Is this because of the apartment incident? Because that was over a month ago."

"No, no, no. I mean, when it happened I was a little concerned… okay, _very _concerned."

"Well, you didn't have to be, and still don't."

"But I do," Elsa said kindly. "Anna, you're my sister. I'll always worry about you."

"But the problem is you don't _just_ worry, Elsa. I'm fine with you worrying because that means you care. But you have a habit of being condescending. You berate me and make me feel stupid. Thank you!" Anna added cheerfully as their waitress arrived with their lunches. She'd always had a knack for switching gears in a heartbeat even when she was upset; Elsa figured it must have been a handy trick at work.

"Anna, what are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember when I first started dating Hans? You wouldn't keep quiet about how bad of a guy you thought he was. Yes, you were right in the end, but at the time, I really liked him. I was happy! But tearing me down was what seemed to make _you_ happy, so… that's that."

As Anna took a grumpy bite of her sandwich, Elsa swallowed hard and gathered her thoughts for a moment. It had been her protectiveness and Anna's desperate need for independence that collided and led to the fallout between them over three years ago. It's something they'd talked about often since then, and they'd both made conscious efforts to be more sensitive toward the other. But old habits die hard.

"I'm sorry," Elsa began, but Anna cut her off.

"No, no, _I'm_ sorry." She rested her forehead against her hand and looked at her sister. "I'm just tired from the trip and stressed about work and stuff."

"I'm not trying to belittle you. You know that, right?"

Anna smiled. "I know. You just… come off strong, I guess."

"I'm working on that."

"And I'm trying not to be so quick to react."

"I guess we both need to work a little harder, eh?" Elsa giggled.

They were quiet for a few minutes as they enjoyed their lunches. Both sisters had a tendency to not talk much as they ate. Elsa had to assume it stemmed from their early years when they very often had guests for dinner or had to attend business functions with their parents; the girls weren't usually included in the conversations about salary caps, contract agreements, and sponsorship arrangements.

Despite their near-argument, Elsa still wanted to talk about Anna's travels. Ever since she found out Anna would be traveling with the team, Elsa had been fretting about her sister's well-being. Anna was a beautiful, young, single woman, and she was the only female consistently traveling with a group of men. Owner's daughter or not, she was bound to gain an admirer or two, if not more, and what happened after that? Would they leave her be, or would they try hitting on her? Heaven knew how many of them saw her in the bar the night Kristoff ended up taking her home; what if one of them took this as a sign that getting Anna drunk equated to an easy target? Elsa knew the whole team, and she knew for a fact there were, unfortunately, some pigs on it.

What escalated Elsa's concerns was Anna was so innocent and kindhearted, making her the worst sort of vulnerable. Anna always thought the best of everyone and never saw them as a potential threat. The team, especially, was a group she held in such high regard. She would see them as friends, and perhaps they were. But there was still that chance…

"May I please be honest with you about something, Anna?" Elsa asked.

"Of course."

Elsa dabbed at her mouth with her napkin before setting it down and folding her hands in front of her. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm worried about you traveling."

"Elsa…"

"It's not what you think," she assured her. "I'm not trying to say I don't trust you or anything like that. It's… well, it's the team. It's them I don't trust."

"What are you talking about?"

Elsa sighed, attempting to figure out a way to say her piece without sounding like a pompous bitch. Anna needed to hear it, but it was bound to strike the wrong nerve, so Elsa treaded lightly.

"Listen… I know you love the team. I love them, too. But the fact is that the team is a group of young men who travel frequently for a week or two at a time, and until now it's been just them. But now there's you."

"So…?"

"So, you're the only woman traveling with this group of men. You're attractive, Anna. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, but… it's not like anyone's going to_ try_ anything…"

"You can never be too sure," Elsa said. "I'm not saying they're bad guys, but… well, people get lonely on the road."

"A lot of them are married, you know."

"Sadly, that doesn't stop some people," Elsa muttered. "Just promise me you'll be safe, okay? Don't drink alone, don't let anyone talk or guilt you into anything you don't want… you know. All that stuff. Again, this isn't a dig at you. I just don't want anyone hurting you or making you uncomfortable, alright? You've worked so hard to get where you are. You've earned this. It shouldn't get ruined by some drunken, horny bastard."

Anna laughed. "I know. Thanks, Elsa, but you really don't have to worry. Kristoff's not like that. He… he's different."

Elsa raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her coffee.

"I never said anything about Kristoff," she said mildly.

She wanted to laugh as Anna's cheeks turned a thousand different shades of red. Elsa knew she was going to immensely enjoy listening to Anna try to talk her way out of that one.

"Oh… right!" she exclaimed in a slight stammer. "Well, I just assumed… you know, after the apartment incident that you were… you know… talking about him. Kristoff, I mean. Like, you're not very fond of Kristoff… at least I think you're not? I don't know. Anyway, you didn't seem to care much for Kristoff even after he helped me, so I thought… maybe there's a stigma? Like, you think Kristoff would try something with me? I don't know. Just… Kristoff's not like that. That's all. Yeah."

"You say his name a lot."

"Do I?" Anna asked in a panicked laugh. "Huh… that's… well."

Elsa smirked. "Anna?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like him?"

"What?"

"Do you like Kristoff?"

"Well, of course I like Kristoff!" she scoffed. "I mean, he went through an interview for me and he saved my ass that night at the bar. He's a good friend."

"You know what I mean," Elsa chuckled. "Do you _like him_? You can tell me, you know."

"You mean, like, as a potential husband?"

"Um… I was thinking more along the lines of someone you'd like to go on a date with, but sure. Run with that."

"I don't know," Anna whined. "He's a nice person and I like being around him, and he _is_ handsome, so… yes? No... yes. I don't know. How do you even know when you really like someone like that, Elsa?"

"Well, usually it's when you like being around someone because they're friendly and cute, so…"

"That's not entirely true," Anna argued. "You're nice, pretty, and I like hanging out with you, but I sure as hell don't want to jump your bones!"

"Okay, first of all: _eeew!_ We're sisters!" Elsa stuck out her tongue and made a gagging motion with her hand. "And secondly… okay, I guess it's not that simple. I hate to say it, but think of how you were when you first started seeing Hans. What was that like?"

"Honestly, I was just so excited that someone was interested in me that I just sort of went with it," Anna mumbled. "Did you really have to bring that up?"

"Fine. Sorry," Elsa said. "Okay. Think of it this way. It's like having a friend that just makes you feel something… _different_. Like, friends aren't supposed to make you nervous, you know? You aren't supposed to care about acting a certain way around them. But when you start to like someone, all those things suddenly matter. You worry about how you look, what you say… you just always want to impress this person. You get this weird feeling in your tummy whenever they're around, or even when they aren't around and you're just thinking about them. That's another thing, too: you start to think about this person, _a lot_. And yeah, if you think the person's good-looking, that's always a bonus."

"Yeah…"

"So, is that how you feel about Kristoff?"

Anna shrugged. "Kind of. I don't know. We've been hanging out a lot lately, and I've been so happy about that. That said, I've wanted a friend for so long that I'm wondering if that's actually where the excitement is coming from. But then again…"

"Then again, what?"

Anna grinned. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course."

"Kristoff's been teaching me how to play hockey."

"Wait, what?"

"I know, I know, we probably shouldn't be using the rink, but it's just so _fun_, and… well, it's kind of why I'm getting so confused. There've been times where I caught myself looking at him not pay attention to what he was doing, but just to look at him. Is that creepy? It's probably creepy. Anyway, after we finish up, we always say goodbye and I just want to hug him. He's just so sweet and seems to go out of his way to make me smile. A couple of times I've even wanted to _kiss_ him. Is that bad?"

"It's not bad," Elsa said gently. "It's natural to fall for someone you're getting close to."

"But I don't _want_ to fall for anyone," Anna huffed.

"Unfortunately, things like that are never in our control."

"Elsa, what should I do?" Anna whispered. "Should I stop spending time with him?"

Elsa bit her tongue for a moment. She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say yes, because Elsa still had her hesitations about Kristoff. The fact that he was so reserved, private, and grumpy most of the time didn't resonate well with her.

But, as she told herself many times before, Anna had a life to live. She got hurt badly by a disgusting man, but she couldn't let that stop her from living. This was the first time in a long time Anna seemed genuinely happy; though she claimed she was scared and unsure, the unmistakable twinkle of excitement and glee was in her eyes. Could she get hurt again? Possibly, but whether she took that risk or not had to be Anna's own choice.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Elsa said. "But may I offer some advice?"

Anna nodded. "Please do."

"If things escalate between you two, don't rush it. I'm only saying this because I know you, Anna. You always want to dive into things head first. Just… just take things slowly, okay? Really get to know each other before tying yourself down. It's okay to just date and hang out without defining yourselves as a couple. Labels seem simple, but sometimes they become the biggest strain."

"That's if he even wants to date me," Anna sighed. "He might not see me that way."

"He might not," Elsa agreed, "but he just might. You never know."

"To be honest, sometimes I think he doesn't even want a girlfriend."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. Do you ever just get a vibe from certain people, and you have no idea why? That's how it is with him. I feel like he's hiding something. Or maybe not _hiding_ it, necessarily, but just dealing with it."

"I get that feeling about him, too," Elsa concurred. "He's a very standoffish guy, isn't he?"

"He used to be, but he's warmed up to me a bit, I think. He scares me sometimes, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Say he does like me," Anna said, "and say we do start to date. What if… what if he's another Hans?"

Anna stared down into her nearly-empty soda glass and lazily spun the ice with her straw. Elsa felt terrible for her. That douche had done so much damage. Even at her happiest, Anna would have him looming over her shoulder, ensuring second-guesses and uncertainty.

"Kristoff's so sweet," Anna continued in a low, dejected voice. "He's grumpy, but he has a good heart. I'm so sure that's the real him. But I thought that was the real Hans, too, and look how that turned out. I'm just so scared to let someone in like that again."

Elsa reached across the table to take hold of her sister's trembling hand.

"I understand that," she soothed. "It's a good thing that you're cautious. But it's up to you to decide if Kristoff is worth that leap of faith. Yes, it'd be a gamble because you'd be putting your heart on the line and risking getting hurt again. But at the same time, you don't want to spend your whole life wondering. Sometimes we need to take risks. You just have to figure out which ones are worth taking."

Anna glanced up at her with a small smile. "I think he might be."

"Then give it a chance. Test the waters. See if you can gauge whether he likes you, too. Just take things slow, remember? And know that if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass. I know where he works, after all."

Anna laughed. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Elsa only half-listened as Anna began talking about the trip again, as her mind was now at work. She was thinking of the six names currently on the table as potential trade bait for New York: Troy Pavalov, Jeff Wyatt, Miles Langlois, Darren Mattuese, Etienne Laflamme, and Kristoff Bjorgman.

A month ago, she'd wanted to push for Kristoff to be the one to go to the Rangers, but now she wasn't so sure. He was Anna's friend now. As the latest conversation with her sister confirmed, there was a possibility he could be more than that in the near future. The impulsive side of her wanted to suggest to her father that Kristoff be taken off the list of candidates. She wanted to do this for Anna's sake, because if her new friend and love interest got suddenly shipped off to the team owned by her abusive ex's family, she would recoil and go on a downward spiral.

On the other hand, there was the chance Kristoff could break Anna's heart, and what better way would there be for Anna to heal than to send away the very cause of her pain? Elsa knew Anna would have never recovered in such a reasonable amount of time had Hans still been in the general vicinity, so if something bad happened with Kristoff, he'd need to be removed.

She came to the decision that she wouldn't say anything… for now. Her father wasn't planning on making any trade decisions until February at the earliest, anyway. What came of Anna's affections for Kristoff would be the deciding factor of whether she'd advocate for the team to keep Number Twenty-Three or not. For the time being, the best place for his name was on the table.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry. Here I am with my Elsa suckage again. Blah. :( Ah well, it had to be done. Back to Anna in the next chapter, and I think you all will like what she has to say... :)

Thanks for reading!


	12. Night on the Town

**Chapter 12: **_**Night on the Town**_

_**-Anna**__**-**_

Anna furrowed her eyebrows as she stared at the seven letters on her phone. She repeatedly tapped the wonky arrow to shuffle them up, attempting to make a winning combination jump out at her, but she saw nothing that would garner her a decent number of points. She hated that damn game, mostly because she was dreadful at it, but her father loved it and it was a decent way to pass the time as she waited for the train.

She was seated on the end of a metal bench in the underground station after a long day at work, eager to get home and make some dinner. As her stomach growled, Anna was reminded that neglecting lunch had been a bad idea. She hadn't skipped on purpose, but in actuality completely forgot about the midday meal; she'd been so engrossed in her work that she didn't look at the clock until 3:30. By that point, she figured she'd wait until dinnertime to eat, a decision she was immensely regretting now that it seemed her ride home was delayed.

"Hello."

Anna jumped at the sudden voice above her and nearly dropped her phone. She drew in a sharp breath when she looked up and saw Kristoff standing before her. At a loss of words, her mouth opened and closed a few times, each movement igniting a deeper shade of red across her face. Anna hadn't seen him much since they returned from the trip nearly a week before, and certainly not in such close proximity.

She thought of what Elsa had said about liking someone, and Anna almost instantly felt all of the necessary qualities. Her stomach was doing flips, yet she didn't feel sick. She was consumed with the idea that although she had an office job, she'd still been at work all day and therefore _must_ have looked like a gross slob. Yet, for all her nerves and insecurities, this was the happiest she'd been all day, and suddenly the wait for the train wasn't so dull anymore.

"Oh! H…hi. Sorry, I… um… it's been a while."

"Yeah. Sorry. I've been meaning to text you."

"You… you have?"

"Uh… yeah," Kristoff stammered. "You know, to see if you still wanted to learn more hockey moves?"

"Oh! Right! Yes, of… of course. That would be fun."

"Cool. We'll have to set something up then."

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

Kristoff pointed to the spot beside her on the bench. "Do you mind if I…?"

"No, no, of course not! Please!" Anna chirped a bit too loudly. She grabbed her purse so violently that she almost ended up throwing it out of the way to make room.

"What are you up to?" he asked, gesturing toward her phone. "You seemed a bit frustrated."

"Oh!" Anna laughed. "Words With Friends. I suck. I like the trivia games better."

"I'm not too bad. Mind if I take a look?"

"By all means," Anna said, handing over her phone. "I'm playing against my dad and he's awesome at it. I never win."

"Well, no wonder," Kristoff chuckled when he saw her letters. "You only have one consonant! What shitty luck. Hm… I mean, there's that _W_ on the board. You could play _NEW _and get the triple letter score for the _N_. That'll get you eleven. Better than nothing, I guess."

"Yeah, I might as well. Thanks." Anna played Kristoff's suggestion and received two more vowels in return. She rolled her eyes and shoved her phone into her purse. "I give up. Anyway… coming back from practice?"

"Yeah. Well, a solo practice. Sorry, if I'd known you were working… well, I would've asked you to join me. I thought of giving you a call, but… yeah, I don't know. Sorry."

"That's okay," Anna said, though she was internally screaming; Kristoff had been thinking about her?! "So, um… where're you headed now? Just going home?"

"I will a little later. I'm going to grab something quick for dinner first."

"Oh. I like dinner."

_I like dinner?!_ Anna thought, closing her eyes for a moment and desperately hoping Kristoff hadn't heard her. _What sort of idiot says that?!_ She glanced out the corner of her eye, cheeks flooding in humiliation when she spotted Kristoff grinning. She wanted to crawl under the bench and die.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Anna mumbled. "That was dumb. What I meant to say was: me, too. I mean, I'm going to get dinner, too. I skipped lunch and… yeah. I'm just going to make something at home."

"I don't suppose you… um… do you feel like coming?"

"Hm?"

"With me. You know, to get food."

"Wait, what?"

"I, uh… I'm not going anywhere fancy," Kristoff elaborated hastily. "I'm just going to the market for a sandwich or something. I mean, if you already have plans, that's fine, of course. But since you're getting dinner, and _I'm_ getting dinner… I don't know. Just thought I'd ask." He gingerly ran a hand through his hair as he said this, eyes darting around the station.

"Yes. Yes, that would be… I… I'd like to."

The words were out before Anna could stop them, not that she had any desire to; she really did want to go and was over the moon with joy that Kristoff had asked her. She did, however, feel incredibly childish for the way her acceptance had sounded. Her words were rushed, high-pitched, and far too eager. Perhaps she was overthinking it, but Anna was pretty sure she was making it all too obvious that she liked him. She prayed he didn't notice; the last thing their friendship needed was any more awkwardness.

Kristoff, however, appeared to be too enamored with his own anxiety to pay much attention to hers. Anna's breath hitched when she saw a dash of pink spread across his nose and cheeks. This was strange to her, as Kristoff was typically confident and aloof. Seeing him blush while stumbling over his words was an unusual experience, though Anna did find this side of him to be particularly endearing; it was nice to not be the only one suffering from some sort of skittish unrest.

Out of nowhere, a loud screech shook the underground station as a train pulled in.

"Cool," Kristoff said, finally looking at her. "So, this is the train I'd take. Er… it looks a little busy, though. We could wait for the next one, if you want?"

"Well, they'll probably all be busy right about now, right? I mean, with people getting out of work and whatnot."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We'll take this one. It's only a couple stops away, anyway."

Anna and Kristoff hopped onto the crowded train. All of the seats were taken, so they had to find a spot to stand near one of the handrails. They managed to squeeze into a space near one of the windows. Anna faced Kristoff, nearly gasping when she realized her face was no more than a foot from his chest. She glanced up at him. His eyes were staring straight forward and his jaw was clenched. His cheeks were still pink.

The important question, in Anna's opinion, was _why _Kristoff seemed nervous and uneasy. Was it this his antisocial nature popping up again, manifesting in discomfort because now they were friends and he couldn't be a grumpy ass to her anymore? Was it because he hated being cramped on the train, surrounded by a bunch of annoying, smelly strangers? Or was it – dare she think it – because perhaps he was feeling something for her, like she was for him? Elsa did suggest trying to figure out if he liked her, too, and if this was one of those moments Anna was supposed to measure, the results appeared to be swaying in her favor. The thought made her dizzy with delight before she got realistic.

_Don't be ridiculous_, Anna thought solemnly. _Who would like you? You're just… well, _you_. Kristoff's an athlete and can do so much better. You're lucky enough that he's willing to hang out with you. _

All of a sudden, the train lurched while rounding a bend. Anna fell forward against him, her entire torso colliding with his. His free hand took hold of her upper arm, and she instantly weakened at his strong, yet gentle touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Y… yeah," she mumbled, bravely looking up at him. His cheeks were a thousand shades of red, just as hers likely were, and he was eyeing her with what appeared to be genuine concern. "I'm sorry…"

"No, uh… no need to be sorry. It… well, it happens. The train can be rough."

"Yeah…"

"Not much longer. One more stop."

"Okay."

Only then did Kristoff let go of her arm, and Anna missed it right away. She missed the feeling of his body against hers, too. It had only been for a second, but that second had been long enough to confirm her assumptions that he was sturdy and built like stone sculpture. It had been enough to make her wonder why, after all of the time they'd spent together, she'd never thought to hug him, even in a platonic way. Friends hugged to express gratitude and care, after all, but not once had she and Kristoff embraced; her tumbling into him a few seconds prior had been the closest they'd ever come.

She wanted to change that. In fact, it surprised Anna just how much she wanted to wrap her arms around Kristoff, pull him close, and hold him like that for a long time. She'd never wanted to hug a man that much, but then again, she'd never been friends with a man. The fact that Kristoff was both attractive and her friend made Anna so confused about her feelings that she just wanted to kiss him to see if that could help her figure it all out.

"Here we are," Kristoff announced.

Anna looked out the window, eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

"The government center stop? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. We have to walk a couple of blocks. Is that okay?"

"Oh. Yes! Yes, that's fine."

The trek to their destination was short, as promised, though it was a silent one. As they walked across the large, brick plaza surrounding City Hall, neither of them said a word, and Anna knew it was because this outing was different. Though she and Kristoff had hung out several times before, they were never on their own. The team wasn't there was a buffer this time. Even during their hockey sessions, the fact that they'd been in the arena made things feel just professional enough to stop her from doing anything reckless. Leaving their usual environment dramatically shifted the dynamic between them; although they were surrounded by traffic, twinkling lights, and hundreds of strangers, they were completely alone.

"There we go," Kristoff finally spoke as they approached the street. A stone terrace and a collection of brick buildings were across the lanes of traffic.

"Huh?"

"The Quincy Market? You know… right there?"

"Oh, this is where it is?" Anna exclaimed. "I never knew! I mean, I've heard about it, of course, but-"

"Hold on," Kristoff interrupted. "You've lived around here your whole life and have never been to the Quincy Market?"

Anna shook her head, confused as to why this was such a shocker. The marketplace may have been a historical landmark, but all of the locals knew it had become so commercialized over the last few decades that most never went near it if they had any say in the matter.

"It's a tourist trap. Everyone knows that."

"Yeah, but there's still a ton of good food."

"I don't know," Anna said with a shrug. "Locals just avoid it. I'm surprised you come here."

He smirked. "Technically, I'm not a local."

"True!"

They crossed the street once the white light began to blink, and Kristoff led her to the building directly behind the main one. From what Anna had heard about the market, she expected it to be almost like a mall food court, perhaps housing a burger joint, pizza shop, and maybe a Chinese food place. It was quite the contrary. As they stepped inside, Anna was treated to the sight of what appeared to be a mile long hallway lined with counter service restaurants. Her nose was assaulted with a new aroma each second, instantly making her reassess her previous notion that this was just another food court. Her hungry stomach rumbled louder than ever before.

"Holy shit," Anna murmured. "Why have I never been here?"

Kristoff shrugged. "I know why people avoid it. It gets really crowded sometimes, and… well, yeah. Tourists flock here. But I still like it. Any thoughts on what you want?"

"Um… everything?! Is that an option?"

Kristoff laughed. "Well, tell you what. About halfway down, right in the middle of the building, there's a bunch of tables. Take a look around, figure out what you want, then meet me there once you have something. That work?"

"Yeah, definitely," Anna stammered. "Um… I'll, uh, see you in a few minutes then?"

"Yeah. See you."

It seemed Kristoff knew exactly what he wanted and where to get it, because he took off in an instant. Anna, meanwhile, began to slowly wander along the giant hallway in awe. Fortunately, the place wasn't overly crowded, so she was able to get a good look at all of the options available. There was gourmet pizza, lobster rolls, wraps, sausages, bread bowls filled with clam chowder, baked goods, fish and chips, Indian food, Greek food, Thai food, Irish food… just _so much food_, and Anna wished she could sample it all.

Against her better reasoning, she thought of Hans in that moment. If he'd been there with her, she wouldn't have dared to get anything other than one of the fancy salads she saw unless she wanted the judgmental glare or, worse, his subtle yet condescending way of bringing up weight and beauty. As far as she could tell, Kristoff wasn't that kind of guy; after all, he hadn't seemed the least bit phased when she shared arena food with him that one time, or when she'd chowed down on nachos during trivia night. Or had she just not cared enough to notice? She hadn't been as self-conscious around him then, but now… well, she _cared _what he thought. She didn't want him to think she was a pig, but at the same time didn't want to give the impression she starved herself, either.

Eventually, she settled on a delicious-looking pita from one of the Greek places, which Anna figured was a fair compromise. It was stuffed with a healthy helping of grilled chicken, vegetables, and little bit of feta cheese, but wasn't so large that it could qualify for more than an average-sized meal. Content with that choice, she made her way to the middle of the hall as instructed and easily found Kristoff near one of the exits.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"So, uh, there aren't any open tables," Kristoff murmured sheepishly. "Sorry. This was a bad idea…"

"Oh, no, it's okay!" Anna chirped. "I don't mind standing."

"Actually, I was thinking we can go find a bench, if you want? We'd have to walk some more, but-"

"Sure!"

"Really? Alright… cool."

He led her away from the crowd until he spotted an open bench a couple minutes later. It was close to the road that separated the marketplace from the harbor, tucked away in the shadows, and a decent distance away from the bustle of patrons.

"That looks good," he commented, nodding toward the pita in her hands.

"Would you… um… would you like to try some?" Anna asked.

"Thank you, but no. I've had one before. Besides, I think I have my work cut out for me here."

Anna eyed his meal, surprised to see a burger and fries in the white container on his lap.

"I thought you said you were getting a sandwich?"

"I did," he defended with a grin. "It's meat between two slices of bread. It counts!"

Anna chuckled. "That's fair."

They were silent for a few of minutes as they tore into their dinners. Anna took a tiny bite of her pita; she wasn't sure if it was because she was so hungry, but it was probably one of the most delicious things she'd ever tasted. Though it had been quite some time since she had one, she never remembered them bursting with so much flavor and leaving a zesty tingle on her tongue. Anna wanted to devour it, but she restrained herself. Inhaling a meal wasn't ladylike, and she had a handsome man beside her whom she hoped to impress. Instead, she continued to take small, steady bites, allowing her to savor and truly enjoy it.

"How's your pita?" Kristoff asked.

"Mm, it's fantastic," she hummed. "Are you sure you don't want some? I really don't mind sharing."

"Thanks, but really, I'm already getting full. Want some fries?"

Anna hadn't had French fries in a while, so his offer was tempting. They were golden and looked crisped to perfection with just the right amount of salt. Even as she finished her food, her stomach still longed for more, likely punishing her for skipping lunch.

"Are… are you sure?"

"Please do," Kristoff assured her. "I'll never finish them alone."

Anna tentatively reached for the smallest one she saw, brought it to her lips, and did not regret her decision. She sighed contently and Kristoff smiled. They polished off the rest together, and he took their rubbish to the nearby bin immediately after.

"So," he said upon his return, "are you… um… do you want to stick around or are you gonna head back?"

"Oh! Um…" Anna actually wasn't sure. She felt like she was doing a decent job of keeping herself together, thus her brain was telling her to go out on a high note and run far, far away before she ruined everything. But she didn't_ want_ to; she wanted to spend more awkward, nerve-wracking time with Kristoff. "I don't know. What are you doing?"

"Uh, well, I… earlier I thought of going for a walk." He ran a shaking hand through his hair, and it did not escape Anna's notice that it was the second time he'd done that since they ran into each other earlier. "I like to go down to the harbor sometimes," he murmured quickly.

"Oh. That… that sounds lovely."

"You, uh… you wanna come?"

Anna timidly nodded and bit her lower lip. "Y-yeah. I'd like that."

Though it was a short distance between the market and the harbor, they took a bit longer to arrive at their destination than the average person likely would have. Anna knew it was deliberate, at least on her part, as she took modest steps in an attempt to prolong her time with Kristoff. He maintained the same pace as her, and whether that was out of politeness or a desire to procrastinate, she didn't know. The fact that it quite possibly could have been the latter made Anna feel lightheaded in the most welcome way.

Within a quarter of an hour, they arrived at one of the wharves. They had to walk around the aquarium to get to the end. A couple of benches resided there, but they both went directly to the railing as if leaning against it to look out at the water together was second nature. Anna could hear the breeze and gentle roll of water, but couldn't see anything except the lights surrounding the harbor and their reflections upon it. That was okay, though, because Kristoff was there, and she seemingly spent just as much time glancing at him as she did looking outward. To her, the view was perfect.

"Is this where you usually come?" Anna asked after a several minutes of silence.

"Hm?"

"You said you like to come to the harbor sometimes," she clarified. "Did you mean you go on the boats, or…?"

"Oh, no," he answered. "I mean… yeah. No to the boats. I usually come here. There are a bunch of other wharves, but I like this one. There usually isn't anyone here once the aquarium closes, so… yeah. It's quiet."

"It's lovely."

"Yeah," Kristoff agreed. He then pointed across the harbor. "I like that, too."

"Huh?"

"If you look really closely, you can see the planes taking off from the airport. See the lights?"

Anna squinted at the sky, and she did indeed see a set of moving, blinking lights. "Oh! Yes, I do!"

"Where do you think that one's headed?"

"Why?"

"It's a game I used to play. I liked to guess where each plane was going."

"Okay," Anna said. "Hm… Buenos Aires."

"Uh," Kristoff laughed, "I'm pretty sure you can't fly directly there from Boston. That'd be a long, _long_ flight! There'd have to be a layover somewhere"

"Fine," Anna huffed with a smile. "It's going to Miami, but most of the people in it are on their way to Buenos Aires. Satisfied?"

"That's probably a bit more reasonable," Kristoff conceded. "Still pushing it, but reasonable!"

Anna laughed. "So what made you start doing that?"

"Hm?"

"Tinking about where the planes go."

He shrugged. "It's a long story."

"So?"

"It's stupid."

"I doubt it," Anna argued. "And even if it was, how many stupid things have I told you in the last month? Or even the last hour?"

"Fine," Kristoff said. "When I was kid – maybe in fourth grade or something like that - we came here for a fieldtrip. We did the aquarium in the morning and the science museum in the afternoon. The class had lunch over there." He nodded toward the cluster of tables a ways away near the building. "But, I didn't want to sit with my class because… I just didn't. So I asked my teacher if I could sit on one of the benches near the water by myself. She said she didn't mind as long as I didn't leave her sight, so… yeah. I sat on the bench and watched the planes take off, and for a poor kid… I don't know. I liked the idea of people going off on adventures. Made me want to do it someday, you know?"

Anna smiled. "And you are."

"Yeah… yeah, I guess I am."

They were quiet for a few minutes, the subtle sound of the water filling the void for a while. Every once in a while, Anna glanced to her right at Kristoff. He was staring down into the harbor with an unreadable face. He didn't look upset, but indifferent. She recalled the interview when they first met; it seemed like so long ago, but Anna remembered everything he said like it was yesterday. He'd been a foster kid, bullied, and didn't really have friends, and just as it had that day, her heart broke for him. Kristoff was such a good person and it pained her that people hadn't seen that.

The urge to hug him resurfaced. It was, in part, for the selfish reason of her wanting to be against his body again, but it was so much more than that. Anna didn't know much about Kristoff's life, save for a few scattered facts with no details, but one thing she could deduce was he was lonely. Though his seclusion was something he appeared to take pride in, she could tell he wasn't fulfilled by it, and perhaps didn't even like it. Grump that he was, he was still a person, and Anna knew that friendship and love were things everyone needed whether they admitted it or not.

_He's reluctant,_ she thought, _just like you. Why would he want to let anyone in? Look at how he's been treated._

"Hey, Kristoff?" she said after a while.

"Yeah?"

She inhaled deeply, knowing full well what she wanted, _needed_, to say, but was terrified to do so. How was she supposed to convey how much he'd come to mean to her in just a few weeks without scaring him off? How could she let him know he was valued without sounding like a desperate freak? Everything she wanted to tell him was kind, but she'd come to learn that too much kindness had a tendency to make people uncomfortable. In a world full of cynics, people were made to feel ashamed or stupid for being nice, at least in her experience. She'd learned subtly was the best route.

"I just wanted to say that, um..." he voice trailed off. _Subtle_, she reminded herself. "Well... these last few weeks have been wonderful. I really like hanging out with you."

_There_, she thought. _That wasn't too bad._

Kristoff lifted his head slightly, but kept his gaze on the water. "You... you do?"

"Well... yeah. You're a good friend, so... thanks," she finished lamely, turning as red as a tomato.

She figured he'd scoff at such a dumb comment, if not bolt altogether, but he surprised her by looking her way and smiling.

"Thanks, Anna," he said. "That... well, that's nice to hear. You're a good friend, too, and... yeah. I've been having a lot of fun."

"Really? With... with _me_?"

"Y-yeah," he stammered. "I mean, you, uh... you're a fun person and... yeah."

"Oh," she breathed, doing everything in her power to not start dancing right there on the wharf. "Well, thank you. I'm glad."

Silence fell between them again, but it was a more comfortable one, and Anna felt herself relax. Perhaps, she decided, she would tell him her feelings weren't exclusively platonic, but in due time. For now, having a friend was enough. Someone who wasn't family appreciating her presence was a foreign concept, but it was a pleasant change and one she was more than ready to welcome into her life.

"Hey, Anna?"

She looked to her right. Kristoff was looking out at the harbor again, but something was different. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he was emerging from some sort of deep thought, and though he was no longer blushing, he looked nervous.

"Yeah?"

"Could I... er, may I ask you something? A personal something," he added.

"Sure!" she answered a bit too enthusiastically, but she couldn't help it.

_Is... is he going to ask me out?_ she thought excitedly. _He did say it was personal… oh, stop it, Anna! _

"It's... well, it's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while."

_Oh, my God! He is! He is! He is!_

"Go on," she urged.

"Please, don't feel obligated to answer," he began slowly, "because I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable about anything."

"Kristoff, please, just ask."

"Okay. It's… well, it's about the night I brought you home."

"Oh," Anna said, hoping her disappointment wasn't too obvious.

"I, um… I sort of… _saw _something. Something I wasn't supposed to see and… well, I've been thinking about it a lot."

Anna narrowed her eyes and curiosity. "What's that?"

Kristoff refused to look at her still. What could he have possibly seen that was making him so uneasy? Anna visualized her apartment in an attempt to think of something embarrassing or otherwise strange. She didn't keep many photos, so that couldn't have been it. She didn't have any bizarre foods in her fridge or medicines in her bathroom cabinet. As far as she knew, she didn't have anything illegal or sketchy laying around. The only questionable item she owned, if one could even deem it as such, was the delightful pink toy she was always sure to stow away in her nightstand drawer after each occasional use. Her cheeks brightened at the thought of having left that out the one time Kristoff happened to be over, but even if she had, why would he be asking about it?

"I saw your arms," he whispered.

Anna faintly gasped. Her arms, which were lazily folded on the railing, were pulled closer to her body on protective instinct as her head hung low in sadness and shame. She was instantly flooded with memories of the blade and the reasons she allowed it to rupture her skin. At the time, she hadn't understood why she was doing it or why she was feeling so horrible about her life. She'd been engaged to a wealthy, handsome man, after all; what right did she have to be sad? What right did she have to feel lonely or neglected?

"O-oh," she stuttered, staring down and attempting to ignore the sting threatening her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Kristoff said immediately. "It… it was rude of me to ask. It's none of my business. I just… I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it. You're just such a kind person, Anna, and always so happy… I just hate thinking of you feeling so low. I don't know. I just want to understand why, I guess. Why you felt the need to do that, I mean. Please, don't be angry with me. I didn't mean to dig up the past and upset you. I-"

"No, no, it's okay," Anna said, bravely lifting her head to look at him. She'd been doing a good job of holding in her tears, but his face nearly caused her to break; he was looking at her with such authentic worry that she wanted to cry from joy. Hans, the man who'd supposedly loved her, the man she almost married, had never once looked at her like that. How could she have been so blind then? He'd never given a damn about her_. Kristoff_, though… Kristoff did. After a few weeks, he cared more about her than Hans ever did in the two years Anna was with him. "The doctors… well, they said it was good to talk about it sometimes. Healthy, even."

She wasn't ready to go into a ton of detail, and she certainly didn't want to talk about Hans. How could she sum it up without breaking? Anna took a deep breath.

"It hurt," she said with a small shrug. "It hurt a_ lot_, but that was better than feeling worthless."

Kristoff nodded, but didn't say anything for a while. His eyebrows were crinkled as he gazed out at the darkness, swallowing deeply and seemingly trying to muster up what to say next. And Anna hoped he would say something, because she was certain saying another word would result in a sob. She didn't want to cry in front of him.

"I'm so sorry," he finally said. "It's not a good feeling. I've been there, and… yeah. I know, and… I'm just _so _sorry you felt that way. You didn't deserve that, Anna. You're far from worthless."

"The same goes for you," she breathed, withholding a sniffle. "You aren't and never were worthless, and I hate whatever or whoever made you feel that way. Kristoff, you're… you're amazing."

"I wouldn't go that far," he said with a light chuckle. "But thank you."

"You, too."

"I know we haven't known each other for that long, but, you know… if you ever want to talk or… or _vent_… you can talk to me. I'm not all that good at talking, but I can listen really well."

Anna smiled. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

The breeze picked up at that moment. If it weren't for her braids, Anna's hair would have been billowing around her shoulders like a cape. Instead, little wisps around her ears and forehead tickled her skin. She absentmindedly tried to pat them down to no avail.

"Hey, Anna?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember when you said you owed me a favor?"

"Mhm."

"I, um… I think I know what I want to use it on," he murmured. "You know, if the offer still stands."

"Of course," Anna said, straightening up a little. "Anything. Well, unless it's killing someone. I have my limits."

"Ah, damn it," Kristoff joked with a laugh. "Well, I guess I'll have to request my_ second_ idea, then."

Anna giggled. "Fire away."

His face grew serious then. Kristoff shifted his body so his side was leaning against the railing and he was facing her. Anna did the same.

"Would you, I mean… could you not do that anymore?" he pleaded, voice quivering. "I'm not saying you still do, but if those feelings ever come back… just remember you're not alone, okay? You have people who care about you. _Please_, Anna, don't hurt yourself again. Can you promise me that?"

Anna was stunned, unable to do anything but stare at him for a few moments.

"You… you want to use your favor on… on _me_?" she choked out.

"Well… yeah... yeah, I do."

She did not resist the urge that time as it rose within her like a volcano longing to burst. Without warning, Anna threw her arms around him and held him close. Kristoff reciprocated and settled his hands delicately on her lower back, giving her clearance to rest her head against his chest. He smelled of musk and pine, and Anna inhaled deeply as she tried to quell her rapidly beating heart.

"That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," she whispered.

His arms tightened around her, and she relished in the feeling of being held by someone who cared.

"So you promise?"

She smiled against his chest and nodded.

"I promise."

For Anna, it was an easy promise to make. When she cut, she hadn't realized how lonely her life was despite being in school and having a boyfriend. The subtlety of Hans's abuse had flown straight over her blissfully ignorant and naïve head. She'd cut out of confusion, of loneliness, of self-loathing, but that was over now. She finally had someone who cared, a true friend, and knowing that she was finally worthy of such a precious gift was enough for her to be absolutely sure she'd never want to cut again.

When they broke apart, it was not a complete separation. Though they both bent back, they kept their arms loosely around each other, neither of them wanting to be the one to let go. Anna felt something stir deep in her belly; it was the same flutter she'd felt that first time on the rink with him, when they were alone in the elevator together in Tampa, and just an hour before when he asked her to join him for dinner. As his gaze gently wavered between her eyes and her lips, she somehow knew it was the same for him, too.

They both leaned in slowly, neither wanting haste to frighten or intimidate the other. Anna melted when his lips touched hers. They were soft and warm, just as she'd imagined they would be, and she could have happily stayed there forever, in his arms with her mouth on his. In one short-lived, simple kiss, Anna flew directly to heaven in back, just in time to open her eyes and see Kristoff smiling down at her with that beautiful lopsided grin of his.

"I, um… I've been wanting to do that for a while," Kristoff quietly admitted, cheeks growing redder with every word.

"Me, too," Anna giggled.

"Would it be okay if… I mean, I… I'd like to… could we…?"

"Yes."

His lips landed on hers once more, and Anna's body relaxed into his warmth and tender embrace. His hands found her hair and cheek. Hers found his shoulders. Soon enough, their tongues found one another, too, and they danced together in an unhurried fashion, exploring and savoring. She whimpered every once in a while, matched by his sporadic, satisfied moans.

Anna had told herself a friend was enough. Until then, she'd even believed it. But being lost in Kristoff's arms and kiss made her rethink that. Maybe, after months of fear and uncertainty, her heart was ready to let someone in again, and there wasn't anyone other than Kristoff she was willing to take that risk with.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This was supposed to go an entirely different route. Same outcome, just a different way of getting there. Not sure if the change was good or bad. I'll let you all be the judge of that. :p

Thanks for reading!


	13. The Lucky Penny

**Chapter 13: **_**The Lucky Penny**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

The delicious aroma of roasting turkey wafted through Kristoff's apartment as he prepared his Thanksgiving dinner for one. With it being the second year he was spending the holiday alone, he figured it would be his annual tradition: sleeping in, making himself a personal feast, and watching football until his eyes grew heavy. He'd had a game the previous evening and had another one the following afternoon, so it wasn't a bad way to spend the day; some relaxation was much in order.

He was stirring some gravy in a saucepan when he heard the familiar ding of a text message coming from the living room. Kristoff was never one to immediately rush to his phone when it made a noise, but the events of a few days prior had changed his perspective. It was a little pathetic, really, to be waiting with bated breath to see if a girl was going to contact him, but he couldn't help himself. It had been three nights since the wharf, and he hadn't heard from Anna yet. He understood; the holidays were a busy time for all, and back-to-back home games made things all the more chaotic.

_She's not even obligated to talk to you, anyway_, he quietly reminded himself. _Not to mention, _you_ could have called or texted _her_. But you're too much of a chicken shit, aren't you? You'd rather sit around driving yourself crazy with thinking she made a mistake and actually thinks you're disgusting._

Kristoff lowered the heat on the range and pivoted toward the living room. On the way, he almost tripped over Sven, who was lying on the threshold and patiently waiting for dinner to be ready. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table as well as the open beer next to it. Drawing in a deep breath, he tapped the screen and read the tiny notification: _One (1) new message from Anna_.

_Hello!_ it read. _I just wanted to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving! Have a great day! : ) _

He couldn't contain his smile, nor could he contain the millions of different things he wanted to respond with from running through his mind:

_Hi, Anna_, he wanted to say. _Happy Thanksgiving to you, too! It's so nice to hear from you. I'm sorry I haven't texted or called. I've just been nervous. But I haven't stopped thinking about you since we kissed. You're a great kisser, you know, and I really want to kiss you again. Would that be alright with you? Could we arrange a time to do that? Or maybe we could go on a date? Or we could do both? Both sound good to me. Whatever you want, really. I just want to make you happy. You have such a pretty smile. I love your eyes. I love your laugh. Is that weird? I don't mean for it to be. I just like you a lot and I want to spend more time with you. Is that okay?_

Instead, Kristoff settled for a simple reply. Though he typed it right away, he waited a solid three minutes before clicking the send button, as he did not want to come across as overly eager.

_Hey!_ it said. _Thanks, and same to you! Enjoy it!_

He regretted his word choice the second he sent it; it sounded so dumb and juvenile. Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone and returned to the kitchen. Kristoff wished he could, just once in his life, be one of those smooth guys who had a way with words and charm. It was no wonder Anna hadn't talked to him since their night out; she probably thought she was a complete fool for kissing a doofus like him.

But then, just as he picked up the gravy spoon, Kristoff's phone dinged again with another message from Anna:

_Thank you! So, do you think Philly has a chance?_

Kristoff crinkled his eyebrows, wondering why she was asking such a bizarre question. He thought of the team schedule, and he was pretty sure Boston didn't play Philadelphia again until mid to late December. He wasn't sure who Philadelphia's next game was against, but they likely had one in the next couple of days. Either way, it hardly seemed relevant.

_Do you mean in their next game, or when we play them?_ he asked.

_No, not the Flyers_, came the response. _The Eagles. The football game today_.

Kristoff wanted to grab one of his spare pans and repeatedly smack himself in the forehead with it. He was such an idiot. Of course Anna meant the football game.

_Ah, right. Um… I think they have a decent shot. I want Detroit to win, though._

_Me too! And I really hope Baltimore wins this afternoon. I HATE Dallas!_

Anna's announcement of her distaste for the Cowboys was followed by five angry, red-faced emojis, and he couldn't help laughing. Everything she did was passionate and it always showed. He could very clearly picture Anna, likely dressed up for the holiday, sitting in a nicely-furnished living room while furiously searching through pages of emojis to find just the right one to express her hatred for a football team. What made it better was the three little dots beneath her latest message, indicating that she was still typing. The message arrived a full minute later:

_I mean, really_, she ranted. _Why are they called America's Team? It's Dallas! Hardly the most famous American city! Their colors aren't even America's colors! They haven't won a title in 20 years, so I don't see what the big deal is about them. It's dumb. Sorry if you're a Dallas fan, but I just don't get it. Ugh!_

Kristoff chuckled as he typed his reply.

_I don't get it, either. I didn't know you were so into football._

_Oh, I'm not. Not really. If it's on, I'll watch it and get into it, but it's not something I go looking for. Does that even make sense? I don't know. _

He was going to respond that yes, he did understand, because he was the same way. If he had to pick a sport to watch (other than hockey, of course), he preferred baseball. But before he even finished typing his third word, there was already another message from Anna. Apparently her fingers were made of lightning.

_Anyway, I have to go. Sorry. Gotta go help out my mom in the kitchen. Talk soon? _

He smiled as he read those final two words over. Kristoff could think of nothing more he'd rather do. Kissing Anna had been fantastic, and heaven knew he wanted to do it again, but as he looked back, he knew the true highlight of that night had been simply being close to her and talking to her. That's what he really wanted more of. He wanted to hear more of what she had to say, even if it was only her venting about the Dallas Cowboys.

_Definitely_, he answered. _See you around!_

_See you! : )_

Kristoff returned to his cooking in somewhat of a dreamy haze tainted with confusion and anxiety. He was cautiously optimistic about Anna. When they kissed, she immediately admitted she'd wanted to do it for a while. She'd contacted him first afterward. That had to mean something, right? But perhaps, he considered, she was just being cordial. Maybe she'd only wanted to kiss him out of curiosity rather than actual feelings. Maybe she'd only texted him with holiday greetings out of friendly and professional obligation.

_Or maybe she actually likes you_, he thought hopefully.

"What do you think, buddy?" he wondered aloud, glancing down. Sven had unsurprisingly arrived at his side, no doubt because he'd heard the oven door open a couple minutes before, indicating it was almost time to eat.

In the voice he reserved for the thoughts of his dog, Kristoff said, "_I think you should worry less about Anna and more about finishing dinner_."

"Thanks, that's super helpful," he muttered, beginning to slice the jellied cranberry sauce. "But what should I do?"

"_Feed me._"

"No, about Anna."

"_Ask her out._"

"Would that be appropriate, though? I mean, she's still Adgar's daughter."

"_You probably should have thought about that before you kissed her._"

Kristoff snorted. "Sven" did have a point, but it was still a legitimate concern_. If_ he asked her out, and _if_ she said yes, how would that look in regards to the organization? He'd never thought to look into possible rules about players dating team employees. Maybe he and Anna weren't even allowed to have a relationship. He knew a date didn't necessarily mean a relationship, but it could lead to one. What if jeopardized Anna's job? What if she'd be stripped of her privileges to travel with the team? She'd worked so hard on putting that project together, and he would never forgive himself if she was no longer allowed to continue because of him.

And then he had his own feelings to worry about. He knew she'd been hurt in the past, and though she never said how, Kristoff thought it was safe to assume a guy had been involved. That, however, did not mean Anna wasn't capable of breaking hearts, too, and he wasn't sure he wanted his to be the one she experimented on. Marissa had already done a number on it, and Kristoff was fairly certain it couldn't handle any more abuse. He was so sure Anna wasn't the type of girl who'd play such brutal games, but on the off chance she was…

"I'm overthinking this, aren't I?" he mumbled, though he didn't bothering conjuring a response from Sven. Instead, he piled a bit of everything he made onto his plate, grabbed some cutlery, and headed into the living room. Sven eagerly followed, knowing perfectly well that Kristoff was a sucker and would share.

Kristoff sat in his favorite spot on the couch and was just about to prop his stinky feet up on the coffee table when he spotted a penny next to his beer. He'd used it a few days ago on a scratch ticket he bought on a whim while filling up his car. The coin turned out to be lucky; he won fifty bucks.

"Alright, buddy," he said to Sven. He grabbed the penny and held it up. It was the same color Anna's gorgeous hair was in certain light. "Heads, I ask her on a date. Tails, I don't, and just wait for her to make a move if she wants to. Sound good?"

"_Whatever gets you to start eating is fine with me_."

Kristoff smiled and flicked the penny into the air with his thumb, surprised that, no matter how scared he was of possibly getting involved with a woman again, he desperately wanted it to be heads.

* * *

Saturday was a scheduled day off for the team, but Kristoff nonetheless found himself at the arena. After a dreadful loss to Toronto the day before, he had half a mind to hit the ice and practice; he even contemplated going straight down to the locker room to change the moment he arrived. But he told himself no, and forced himself to remain on the concourse. He hadn't combed his hair or put on a dash of cologne to impress the ice, but rather to impress a certain lady – a lady whom he was quite sure would be in her office despite it being a long holiday weekend.

_You're not practicing today_, he thought to himself. _At least not now. Maybe later, but not now. You're not going to use practice as an excuse to get out of this one, Bjorgman. If she says no, then by all means, put on your skates and take your frustration out on the puck. Fine. But you need to know how she feels._

Before stepping into the administrative hallway, he paused and collected his thoughts. He had planned exactly what he was going to say, right down to the very last word, and had rehearsed it several times in front of his bathroom mirror. It felt silly, like he was a seventh grade boy asking a girl to the homecoming dance, but if this didn't go the way he wanted, he didn't want it to be because he didn't ask her the right way. Just to make sure, Kristoff recited it in his head one last time:

_Hi, Anna. How are you? Did you have a nice Thanksgiving? Oh, good. Me, too. How about those Ravens? That was a great game! Anyway, I just wanted to stop in and say I had a really nice time with you the other night. I was wondering if you'd like to do it again? Perhaps we could have dinner or go to a movie? _

It was simple and to the point, and he planned to say it steadily and slowly. In fact, he'd rehearsed it so many times he didn't think there was any possible way he could screw it up. With a small boost of confidence, he strode down the hallway and stepped into her office. As expected, Anna was at her desk. She was staring at her computer screen while playing with the piece of bubblegum wedged between her teeth, stretching it as far as it could possibly go. He smiled and felt himself relax; for some reason, knowing Anna was a bit of a goofball when she thought no one was looking made him feel loads better.

He quietly cleared his throat. "Hello."

Anna's eyes widened and she quickly shoved her gum back into her mouth, all while knocking over her pencil cup and water bottle, which was fortunately capped.

"Kristoff!" she gasped, her face turning red as a firetruck. "I wasn't expecting… sorry… I mean, hi! What brings you here?"

"Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, no, you didn't startle me!" she laughed nervously as she shoved her writing utensils back into their holder. She stood up and stepped around her desk, smoothing out her skirt and hair in the process. "I, uh, was just… thinking. Thinking about, um… well, I'm working on the latest edition of the… never mind. It's not important. How can I help you?"

Just like that, she was back in professional mode again, and Kristoff felt his morale begin to crumble beneath his nerves. Already he was wondering why he thought it'd be a good idea to approach her in a work environment. The evening they'd spent together dramatically changed things between them, and he reminded himself that Anna was probably just as confused and scared as he was. The arena, and her office by extension, was a safe zone, and he should have anticipated she'd try to keep it that way.

"N-nothing," he stammered. "I uh… um…"

_You can't do it_, he thought. _You can't. Just make something up. _

"I just came here to say that, uh…" _Think, you idiot, think!_ "Um… I'll help out for the youth hockey program. That Saturday in January you talked about… yeah, I'll do it."

_You moron. You stupid, stupid moron._

"Oh. Great!" she said, though her smile seemed forced; had she been expecting, or even _wanting_, him to say something else? "You didn't have to come all the way down here just to tell me that, though. A phone call would have been just fine. Not that I'm complaining, of course, but you didn't have to go out of your way to come here on an off day."

"Oh… it's okay. I was in the area and… yeah." _And you're beautiful and I'm such a pathetic, wimpy idiot_, he finished in his head.

"I'm unfortunately not quite finished with typing up the information and schedule of events for that day, but I'll get copies to you and the others the second they're done, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks."

"No, no. Thank you. You know, for signing up. I was beginning to worry I might have to cancel. With you, I have four. I wanted five, but I can manage with four, I think."

"Oh. That's good, then. I remember you saying the youth hockey program was one of your favorite events of the season, so… yeah."

Anna blushed. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. So, um… is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Oh, no, that was it."

"Okay. Well, again, I really appreciate you volunteering your time. Thank you so much, Kristoff."

"Of course. Anytime. So… I guess I'll see you around?"

She nodded and smiled. "See you around."

Kristoff spun on his heel to leave the office, mentally cursing himself for being a wuss. _Don't you dare leave this room,_ he thought. _Turn around. You'll regret it if you don't. _And with a deep breath, he did.

"Anna?"

She, too, turned back around to face him. "Yes?"

"I, uh… I didn't come here to sign up for the youth hockey program. I mean, I'll still do it, of course, but… uh… that's not why I'm here."

"Okay," Anna said with a nod. "Is there something you need?"

"Yes… no… I just…" Kristoff sighed. His speech was long gone. "I've just been thinking about the other night a lot. When we kissed? It was just really nice. Well, it was for me, at least. Anyway, I was just wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me? Like, a proper dinner… you know, at a restaurant? Not that there was anything wrong with the dinner we had, but I… well, I thought we could go somewhere a little nicer and with, um… with a table. So, uh, would you?"

He stumbled over his words toward the end as they came out faster and faster, cheeks reddening with each sloppy syllable. Kristoff couldn't believe himself. After all that time practicing, all he'd managed to do was ask her to go somewhere that had a table. Logic told him to leave before he said another stupid thing or, worse, gave Anna the chance to call him out on how much of an imbecile he was. However, he was far too mortified to even flinch, never mind run away. It gave him a moment to eye Anna's reaction, and he couldn't tell if the pink tint on her cheeks was good or bad. And were there _tears _in her eyes?

"You… you want to have dinner with me?" she whispered. It was barely audible.

"Well, I… uh, yeah. Yeah, I do," Kristoff said. He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his head with his hand in that nervous way he tended to do. "We can go anywhere you'd like. I mean, if you even want to go. Please, don't say yes if you don't want to. I won't be mad. I-"

"Kristoff, I… I'd love to."

"You… you would?"

"Yes," she breathed with a nod. "Very much."

"Whoa," he gasped, not caring in the slightest that he was grinning like a fool. Anna was smiling, too, her freckled cheeks blushing and her gorgeous blue eyes still a little wet. He never dreamt she'd be so happy to go out with him that her excitement would have her nearly in tears; her reaction made his stomach tumble and his knees grow weak. All he wanted to do was pull her close and kiss her the way he had on the wharf. Kristoff yearned for her tender, warm lips on his again; they'd been all he thought about since that night. "Where… um, where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere," she answered quickly. "Kristoff, I'll go anywhere. Do you already have a day in mind, or…?"

"Oh, um…" Kristoff actually hadn't thought that out in advance, as mustering up the stones to ask her out had been trying enough. He tried to think of the upcoming game schedule, but was drawing an embarrassing blank. "Er, I think our next night off is Monday?"

"I'll check," Anna declared, voice high-pitched and wavering. She stepped back behind her desk, nearly knocking over her pencil cup again as she started to shuffle things around to view her desk calendar. "Actually, it's Tuesday. Chicago is here Monday."

"Right! Chicago!" Kristoff exclaimed. How could he have forgotten that? "So… would Tuesday be okay with you? Are you free that night? I know Tuesday isn't traditional, but-"

"Tuesday sounds wonderful," Anna assured him. "Should I… um… would you like me to meet you somewhere?"

"Oh, no. Please, let me pick you up. How about... six-thirty? Is that too early, or even too late? I'm not sure when you usually have dinner."

"Six-thirty is perfect. I can text you my address later, if you still need it?"

"Yes, please," he answered. "I sort-of remember, but just in case… yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

"Of course. So… Tuesday night, six-thirty?"

"Yes," Kristoff breathed. "It's… um… it's a date?"

He said that last part with extreme caution, not wanting to ruin his progress and scare her off. Anna may not have wanted a date; maybe she just liked the idea of having dinner with a friend. But then she smiled her most beautiful smile and nodded.

"It's a date," she whispered.

_Kiss her_, he thought. _Walk back behind that desk, pull her close, and KISS HER._

But he would wait. Kristoff now had the entirety of Tuesday night to look forward to. He could hold her hand then. He could even embrace her. And maybe, _just_ maybe, he had a shot of repeating that magical kiss.

"Cool. I mean, awesome. Okay. I, uh… I'll let you get back to work, then. I'll see you Tuesday," he finished lamely, though to his delight, Anna was still smiling.

"See you Tuesday."

He walked backward out of the office to find the administrative hallway he'd just passed through had seemingly been replaced by clouds. Kristoff was in a haze all the way back through the concourse as the last five minutes hastily replayed itself in his head on a continuous loop. He'd made an utter ass out of himself, but she still said yes. _She said yes_. It was a yes to dinner, _with him_. If Kristoff hadn't felt so faint, he would have danced.

_Tuesday_. Tuesday was the night. That was only three days away. It didn't leave a whole lot of planning time, but it was just dinner… how hard could it be? But it was then Kristoff realized he had absolutely no idea where to bring Anna. Kristoff loved to cook for himself, so on the occasions he did go out, it was for something that he couldn't easily replicate on his own. His idea of a fine dinner out was getting a burger from a local joint with the super old grill or a slice of Sicilian pizza from the family-owned place with a secret sauce recipe. Delicious as they were, Kristoff knew they weren't appropriate for a first date, or even a tenth date.

_Ha! Tenth date_, Kristoff scoffed at himself. _Don't get ahead of yourself. Let's try to make it through the first, eh?_

"More practice?" a voice called from behind him.

He spun on his heel to see Dimitri emerging from the stairwell that lead to the locker rooms. The team captain was in his gear, covered in sweat, and walking around with only socks on his feet. Kristoff raised an eyebrow.

"Forget your shoes?" he laughed.

"Nah, I'm not done yet. Just grabbing a water. The vending machine downstairs is broken," Dimitri said. "Unless you need the rink? I mean, we can practice together if you want, but if you were planning to… well, you know. If you wanted to have company, it's all yours."

"Oh, no, but thanks," Kristoff stammered, a blush creeping across his face. He missed playing hockey with Anna; it had been far too long since their last lesson. He made a mental note to ask her about it on Tuesday if things were going smoothly. "I just… er, forgot something. I'm heading out now."

Dimitri smirked. "I'm sure that's why you're here."

"Oh, shut up."

"Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow."

"See ya. Actually… wait."

"What's up?"

Kristoff drew in a deep breath. He needed advice, and seeing as he wasn't close with a lot of people, Dimitri was the only person he knew he could get a razz-free answer from.

"Where'd you take Tatyana on your first date?"

"Not what I was expecting you to ask," Dimitri laughed. "Um... well, we didn't really have a first date, at least not in the regular sense. We saw each other a lot at church functions when we were teenagers and things just kind of grew from there."

"Okay, but say you did take her on a real date. Where would you bring her for the first time?"

"I don't know. Probably a restaurant."

"Yeah, but like a fancy one? More casual?"

"Why are you asking?"

"No reason. It's… er, hypothetical."

"Ah, well, in that case… if we'd lived around here when we met and were a little bit older, I'd take her to a place I already knew she liked. Her favorite place. It's maybe a half hour away, quaint, not too elegant, good steaks… nice place for a first date, I'd say."

_Steaks_, he thought. _Hadn't Anna said she liked steak?_

"Hm. Okay. Thanks. And does this place have a name? For hypothetical reasons, of course."

Dimitri laughed. "Honestly, the name escapes me, but I can ask Tatyana when I get home and let you know then."

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

"Would you like any suggestions for a hypothetical second date?" Dimitri joked.

Kristoff rolled his eyes. "See you later."

"Bye. Oh, and Bjorgman?"

"Yeah?"

Dimitri offered him a genuine, all-knowing smile. "Good for you. Seriously."

"Thanks."

Kristoff shoved his hands into his pockets. On his right side, all he felt was a couple chunks of lint. However, in the left pocket was the coin he'd flipped on Thanksgiving. He rolled it between his fingers as he walked to the train station, remembering how the two seconds it had been in the air while he prayed for it to land head-side up had felt like a grueling eternity. In the end, he got his wish, but he was fairly certain he would have asked Anna out regardless of the penny's outcome. He'd carried it with him to the arena, anyway. Maybe, he'd thought, the copper coin would bring him luck in getting a date with the copper-haired girl; it had given him the courage to take the first step and ask her, after all.

If Anna's face when he blubbered his way through inviting her to dinner had been an indicator of anything, though, it was that he'd never needed luck. She'd been so happy that she nearly cried. She'd been wanting this. She was falling for him, too. Kristoff knew the penny had nothing to do with that, but he would keep it as a reminder of the moment when he, too, riskily threw himself out there with nothing more than the shred of hope that he would land the way he wanted.

And, most importantly, that he actually had.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay, everyone. The beginning of the school year is always an insane time for me, but things are finally beginning to calm down a bit. Next chapter, as you can probably assume, will be straight-up Kristanna. Also, it's worth noting that the M-rated-ness of this story will begin to really show its true colors soon. Consider this your warning if that's not your thing.

Thanks for reading! :)


	14. The First Date

**Chapter 14: **_**The First Date**_

_**-Anna-**_

Anna typically dressed in one of two ways: casual or professional. For her casual moments, she wore jeans or yoga pants with a t-shirt and sneakers, and her hair was usually twisted into twin braids on either side of her head. For work, she wore skirt suits or slacks with a nice blouse, and tied her hair back in a bun. She didn't had much of a social life, so her appearance rarely deviated from her usual.

As a result, the reflection she saw in the full length mirror hanging on her bedroom door looked completely foreign to her, and she wasn't sure if she liked what she saw. Not knowing where Kristoff was taking her, she'd chosen between the two dresses she owned that could pass for both casual and upscale settings. She decided against the black one after realizing she wore a lot of black for work, instead settling on the burgundy one. It was a cocktail dress with a modest neckline; it started to flare at the waist and fell just above her knees. Anna had combined it with kitten-heeled black pumps, her silver charm bracelet, a simple necklace, and a black clutch. Her hair was different, too. She'd contemplated pulling it back in a ponytail or fancy twist, but instead opted to leave it down. She'd curled the ends of her long, shiny locks, and they tumbled to the middle of her back in soft waves.

Though she looked lovely, all Anna could focus on was the negatives. She scoffed at her small breasts, and for a moment considered changing into the black dress; it had a lower neckline, and if she paired it with a push-up bra, she could show off what little she had. She did have a waist cincher; though she loathed the thought of wearing it, maybe it would make her narrow hips look more pronounced. Her ankles looked lumpy and she hated them. She should have gotten a manicure. Did she still have time to put on more make-up? What if Kristoff didn't like the smell of the tiny dash of perfume she'd put on?

She glanced at the clock, and upon realizing it was already 6:15, Anna sighed. Kristoff would be there to pick her up soon, and there was no time to change her outfit, hair, or anything else. She dejectedly sat on the edge of her bed. All she wanted to do was impress Kristoff, and if he spotted all the bad things, too, how was that ever going to happen? Maybe her business attire had deceived him into thinking she was more curvy and womanly than she actually was. Maybe the dress would disappoint him.

Anna jumped when, at 6:22, a loud buzz rang in her living room, indicating that someone was ringing her doorbell downstairs. She drew in a deep breath as she walked to her front door and pressed the button for the speaker.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi… Anna?" the voice on the other end stammered. "It's me. Sorry, I… uh, I mean, it's Kristoff. Kristoff Bjorgman, your… your date?"

She involuntarily giggled, and that was all it took. Though she was still a bit jittery, she could feel herself relax as she remembered that this was Kristoff. This was harmless, lovable, sweet Kristoff, and he was just as nervous as she was.

"Hi, Kristoff. Come on up."

She held down the button on the right for three full seconds to unlock the front door to her apartment building. Knowing Kristoff had to ascend three flights of stairs (or take the obscenely slow elevator), Anna jogged to her bathroom for one last look. She ran her brush through her hair a few times and softly rubbed her jawline to make sure her make-up was perfectly blended with her skin. She almost grabbed her toothbrush, but there was no time and, quite frankly, the point was moot; she'd already brushed her teeth thoroughly four times.

Within two minutes, there was a knock at her door. She half walked, half ran to answer it. Before opening it, she patted down her hair. She smoothed her dress. She patted down her hair again. She breathed on her hand and took a whiff, just in case. Then, she slowly opened the door, inhaling deeply as she did so.

And there, wearing khakis and a dress shirt and holding a bouquet of wildflowers, was Kristoff.

They both stood there in a shocked silence with wide eyes and quivering lips that wanted to curve into smiles, but were too in awe to do so. Though it lasted only a few seconds, it felt like hours before Kristoff spoke.

"Hi," was all he choked out, mouth finally morphing into a goofy grin.

"Hello," Anna breathed. A soft, involuntary giggle slipped out with it.

"Whoa…"

His sentiment came out in a hushed whisper, and Anna felt her face flush as Kristoff's eyes took a brief scan of her. She wasn't angry that he'd done so; considering that she'd done the same to him, she had no right to be mad. However, the insecurity she felt under his gaze was instantaneous and she flew into a panic.

"I'm sorry," she blabbered, bringing a nervous hand to her hair, "am I overdressed? Or underdressed? Sorry, I just wasn't sure where we were going. Sorry. Just give me a minute. I'll go change."

"No!" It came out more strongly than he'd intended, Anna suspected, because he immediately blushed and apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I just… well… please don't change. You… you look _beautiful_."

Anna's eyes widened. "I… I do?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she gasped, unable to contain a smile. "Th-thank you. You look beautifuller. Wait, what? I mean, you look beautiful, too. No, wait… handsome. You look very, _very _handsome."

By this point, Anna was certain her cheeks were darker than her dress, but she relaxed when Kristoff smiled.

"Thank you. That's kind of you to say."

"You're welcome." They smiled at each other for a few more seconds before she realized that Kristoff was still on the other side of the threshold. "Oh, sorry! Please, come in."

She stepped aside so Kristoff could enter her apartment. As if it was second nature, they both opened their arms for a hug, and Anna guessed it would have lasted more than a millisecond had the sound of crunching cellophane not interrupted them. Kristoff pulled back in haste as his blush returned.

"Sorry. These are for you," he said, holding the bouquet out with a shaking hand. "I wasn't sure what your favorite flower is, but I, uh… I remembered you said your favorite color is purple, so I just got a bunch of purple ones. And a couple of sunflowers, because… well, just because."

"Thank you," Anna murmured. "They're beautiful. And sunflowers are my favorite! Somehow you must have known."

"Really?"

"Really."

Kristoff smiled. "Cool."

"I'm just going to go put these in a vase, okay? I'll be right back."

Anna stepped into the kitchen and fetched a vase from one of the cabinets. She filled it with water, tore the cellophane away from the bouquet, and shoved the flowers in; she'd give them a proper trimming and sorting later. Right now, she was too eager to begin the evening to worry about how awkward and tall they looked.

"I'll, um… I'll just get my coat?" she said to Kristoff once back in the living room. "Unless there's no rush?"

Kristoff nodded. "No, that'd be good. Our reservation is for 7:15, so… yeah."

"Okay." She grabbed her black, double-breasted peacoat from her closet and slipped it over her shoulders. As she buttoned it up and tied the belt in a loose knot, she queried, "so, where are we going, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's a French restaurant. I've never been there, but a friend recommended it. It's about twenty minutes outside of the city. Is that okay? If you'd rather stay close to home, I can call and cancel. Really, we'll do whatever you want."

"No, no," Anna assured him. "Kristoff, it sounds lovely. I'm looking forward to it."

Kristoff smiled. "I, uh… I'm told they have good steaks."

"Hm. I do love a good steak," Anna hummed.

"I remember."

Anna nibbled on her lip and grinned. Kristoff remembered her favorite color_ and_ favorite food. He'd actually been listening, and cared enough to remember the things she said. To say she was flattered was an understatement.

"So, um… shall we?" Kristoff asked. He took two steps closer to her and gingerly offered her his hand. Anna smiled and laced her fingers with his.

"We shall."

* * *

"Good evening," came the voice of a young man; their waiter had arrived at their table. As he poured iced water from a crystal pitcher into two glasses on the table, he said, "my name is Stephen, and I'll be taking care of you this evening. Do you have any questions about the menu?"

Kristoff and Anna shared a glance at one another, and Kristoff seemed to read her mind.

"We don't, but thank you," he answered for them both.

"Excellent. Do you need a few more minutes to decide?"

"Yes, please."

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

As Stephen departed, leaving them alone once more, Anna took a deep breath. She stared down at her menu, but did not really read it, for her mind was reeling with anxiety. This was a date… with _Kristoff._ She was one a date with a professional athlete, someone whom she was friends with and deeply admired, and it was only a matter of time before she did something stupid and ruined the evening. To top it off, the restaurant Kristoff had chosen was cozy and intimate, and they were two of the few guests present on the weeknight. She glanced up temporarily, breath catching in her throat when she saw Kristoff eyeing her. She reciprocated his smile.

"This… um… this place is really nice," Anna commented. "It's lovely."

"Yeah, I like it," Kristoff agreed. "Do you have any thoughts on what you might like to eat?"

"Oh, um…"

She wanted steak. She_ really_ wanted steak. But wouldn't that look bad? After all, if it was bad after countless dates when she was with Hans, surely it wouldn't make a good impression on her first with Kristoff. Steak wasn't the healthiest thing, and she didn't want to look like a glutton.

"The salads sound good," Anna thought aloud, scanning over the menu again. "Or maybe even the cod."

"Oh. Not getting a steak?"

"Hm?"

"Nothing. I just thought… well, with it being your favorite…" Kristoff began, but he immediately blushed and started over. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. You should eat whatever you want."

"The steak does sound delicious," she murmured thoughtfully. "But I…"

"What?"

"It's just… are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

Kristoff shook his head and smiled. "Why would I mind? Anna, please, choose whatever you want. Anything."

"Have we reached a decision?" Stephen had returned, prepared to take their orders. "If you need more time, I can come back."

Kristoff looked at Anna.

"You can go first," she whispered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just… yeah."

"Okay," he agreed, then turned to their waiter. "I'd like the top sirloin, please, medium-well."

"And for your sides?"

"Um… I'll go with the scalloped potatoes and green beans, please."

"Certainly. Your meal comes with your choice of soup or salad."

"Soup, please. Do you have French onion?"

"Yes, topped with gruyere cheese."

"That's perfect, thank you."

Stephen then turned to Anna. "And for you, miss?"

Anna glanced at Kristoff, then back at her menu, then back at Kristoff. He had a small, patient smile on his face, and she knew he'd meant every word he said. He wanted her to enjoy herself.

He_ wasn't_ Hans.

"I'll have the filet mignon, please," Anna declared, "medium, with mashed potatoes and broccoli."

"Excellent choice. And would you like soup or salad?"

"Salad, please."

"That comes with our own house dressing, unless you have another preference?"

"The house dressing is fine, thank you."

"My pleasure. This evening, we are featuring a full-bodied merlot that is sure to compliment both of your meals. I'd be glad to bring you a bottle, or would you prefer to see our extensive wine list?"

Anna and Kristoff both agreed the merlot would suffice, and were subsequently left alone again.

"You didn't have to order the steak, you know," Kristoff said. "If you really wanted the cod, I mean."

"No, I did," Anna assured him. "I was just nervous to order it, that's all."

"May I ask why? Sorry," he added quickly. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, no, it's okay," Anna conceded with a nod. "It's just… well, I had this boyfriend."

"Ah," Kristoff said with a smile.

"He was just… well, he was a bit of a health nut," Anna blabbered. "Er, with me, I mean. He was always concerned that I stayed healthy and sort of monitored what I ate, and… yeah. Sorry. This isn't a topic well suited for a date, is it?"

She finished with a nervous laugh and could feel her cheeks burning a bright, fire engine red. Kristoff, however, was frowning, and she felt her stomach drop.

_Great. He thinks you're crazy_, Anna thought. _Way to go._

"He… _monitored_ what you ate?" Kristoff asked incredulously.

"Well… yeah," Anna mumbled. "I didn't see at the time how abnormal that was. Stupid, right? I mean, things are better now, but the feeling's still in the back of my mind, I guess. Sorry, you must think I'm a freak…"

"No, not at all," Kristoff refuted. "Everyone has something, you know? I'm just so sorry you were made to feel that way."

Anna smiled and looked down at her lap. For a brief, fleeting moment, she wondered what Kristoff's _something_ was. She knew so little about him, yet yearned to know so much. She wanted to learn the good, the bad, and every major and miniscule thing in between. What shaped him? What made him so polite, humble, and delicately intimidating? He was a complete mystery, a fact which both fascinated and frightened her.

Before she could even think of something to say, let alone say it, Stephen had arrived again with a tray. He presented them with their wine and a basket of fresh rolls, along with their respective appetizers. After he poured them each a glass of merlot, he was gone again.

"How's your soup?" Anna asked after a minute.

"Delicious," he hummed. "Would you like to try some?"

Anna loved onions and almost said yes, but stopped herself just in time. What if they kissed later? She couldn't have onion breath for their goodnight kiss.

"Thank you, but you enjoy it," she politely declined. "I love French onion soup, though."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I… um, I actually make a pretty decent one."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "What? Really?"

"Yeah," Kristoff said with a nod. A faint blush crept across his cheeks. "I really like to cook."

"Really?" Anna asked again. "What do you like to cook?"

"Anything, really. I experiment a lot."

"More power to you. I'm not good in the kitchen," she admitted sheepishly. "I can make a few things, but I'm too impatient. Where'd you learn?"

"Brenda taught me," Kristoff said. When Anna tilted her head, Kristoff smiled and continued. "Sorry, I should clarify. Brenda's my foster mom. She and her husband, Cliff, took me in when I was just shy of twelve. I was supposed to be with them temporarily, but I just sort of stayed with them until I was of age, and then some. They're great people. I still visit and call them often. Sorry, this is boring, isn't it?"

"No, not at all!" Anna assured him. She hadn't realized she'd put down her salad fork and folded her arms in front of her, latching on to every word he said. "What are they like?"

Kristoff grinned and seemingly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, they've got a big Irish family," Kristoff said. "_Huge_. They just never had kids of their own. Cliff works for the postal service and Brenda used to be a music teacher. She got the chance to retire early and took it without thinking twice. Anyway, they've got a little house in Franconia and they don't have a lot of money, but… well, they were good to me. Still are. They're two of the best people I've ever known. Don't know where I'd be without them."

"Wow," Anna breathed. "They sound wonderful."

"They really are."

"Where were you before you lived with them?" She remembered him saying he lost his mother when he was seven, so there was a few years in between that tragedy and him finding Brenda and Cliff.

"Oh, um… a different family," Kristoff mumbled.

He glanced off to the side for a moment and did not elaborate. Anna felt the shame rise in her cheeks. How could she have asked such a thing? That was incredibly private and she had no right to inquire about such matters. This, she suspected from his reaction, was Kristoff's _something_, or at least one of a few.

"I… I apologize," Anna stammered, feeling like she might start crying. "That was uncalled for."

"It's okay."

"If you want me to go, I will. I can call I cab. I-"

"What? Anna, no," he hushed. As if on instinct, he reached across the table to gently take hold of her hand. "No, of course I don't want you to go. I'm having too good of a time for that."

"You… you are? Even after…?"

"It doesn't matter," Kristoff assured her. "It's just… well, it's a long story. Not suited for a date, if I may borrow your earlier words. Please don't worry about it."

Anna nodded. "Okay."

Kristoff offered her a comforting smile that would have made everything better were it not for her nerves. Anna, still paranoid that she'd ruined everything, was powerless to stop her fearful unrest from taking the reins of her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "My history – with dating, I mean – it's… well, it isn't good. A lot of things went wrong and now I'm a mess. I don't know how to act and _god_, I'm making it worse, aren't I? I'm so sorry, Kristoff…"

"Anna," he murmured. "I have ghosts, too. You think I'm not nervous about being here with you? Trust me, I understand how you feel."

"Is this night a disaster?" she whimpered.

She felt Kristoff tenderly squeeze her hand. When Anna's eyes meet his, she could see his forthcoming answer, but she yearned to hear it nonetheless.

"Not even close," he said. Anna let out sigh of relief as he continued. "Anna, I… I like you. I like talking with you. That's why I asked you out tonight."

Anna smiled. "I like you, too. I… I just want to get to know you better. I want to know everything. Sorry, I-"

"Please, don't be sorry. And I do, too," he agreed. "You're one of the most interesting people I've ever met. But how about we keep it simple for tonight? Let's only talk about good things, _fun_ things. We can talk about all the other stuff in due time. If… if you want to, I mean. Deal?"

Anna took a deep breath and nodded. "Deal."

* * *

Nearly three hours later, Anna was in a delightful haze of adoration and wonder. She knew their dinner had been phenomenal, right down to the strawberries and dish of rich chocolate mousse they'd shared for dessert, yet the whole night was a bit of a blur. Perhaps it was the wine. Maybe it was because she was so engulfed in his warmth as he snuggled her close while he walked her home. Either way, Anna really couldn't remember specifics in that moment. All she knew was she'd just spent the evening with a man who truly admired her, listened to her, and valued what she had to say. She'd never known such care and consideration was possible.

With the majority of people already home for the evening, Kristoff had to park a little ways away from her apartment building. This was fine with her, as it gave her an excuse to prolong her time with him, even if just for a little while. He'd wrapped an arm around her in an attempt to shelter her from the brisk, chilly wind of late November, and she rested her head against him while talking small, slow steps. Her arm was draped lazily around his lower back.

Anna withheld a disappointed sigh when her building came into view; she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him. She wracked her brain for some eloquent way to thank him not only for the dinner (which he insisted on paying for despite her urging they split the check), but for spending time with her. How was Anna supposed to tell him how much it meant that he'd taken three hours of his precious time off to sit with her, share a meal with her, talk to her, _listen _to her? Was there a way to tell him how important and special he'd made her feel just by actually looking at her as she spoke? The problem was Anna did not know if those things were anomalies worthy of gushing over, or normal things she'd just never experienced on a date. They'd agreed to focus only on positives that night; if she brought up how much these likely standard things meant to her, she feared she'd scare him off.

Much to her relief, Kristoff spoke first.

"I, um… I had a wonderful time with you tonight," he said softly.

"Me, too," Anna agreed. "Kristoff, thank you so much. I had an amazing time."

"I was thinking… uh, maybe we could do it again, if you want?" he stammered. "Maybe we could go see a movie?"

Anna smiled and nodded. "That sounds like fun. I haven't been to a movie in… gosh, I don't even know. It's been years."

"Oh. Not a fan of movies?"

"Oh, no, I am," Anna clarified. "I watch them all the time at home. But actually going to the theater to see one, well… it's been a while. I don't get out much." She said the last part sheepishly; she was making herself sound awfully old.

"Gotcha," Kristoff said. "I just love it. In Franconia, there used to be a little second-run theater that had Two-Dollar Tuesdays. I went a lot when I was younger. Cheaper than a lot of other things kids my age were doing, you know?"

"What's your favorite movie?"

"My favorite movie," Kristoff repeated with a sigh. "That's a tough one. There's so many. But if I _had_ to pick… probably Back to the Future."

"Never seen it."

"What?!"

"Nope," Anna said with a shrug. "Never even heard of it, to be honest."

"_What?!_" Kristoff laughed. "Oh dear, we're going to have to fix that. It's great. I really think you'd like it."

Anna giggled. "Well, I'm willing to give it a try."

"Cool. We'll have to arrange something, then."

Somehow, they were already at the door to her building, and Kristoff shifted so they were standing face to face. As Anna stared at him, time froze, and that was fine with her because she didn't want to see him go. Their hands found each other's and they held on gently.

"Did you mean what you said before?" Kristoff asked. "About going out again?"

Anna nodded. "Of course. Why would I lie about that?"

Kristoff smiled and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just boring. I didn't think-"

"You're not boring!" Anna countered. "If anything, _I'm_ the boring one. Kristoff… I love talking with you. You're fun to be around. You're _far_ from boring."

"Well, thank you," he said humbly, "because I really want to do this again. Go out with you, I mean."

"Me, too."

"And do you still want to play hockey? We've been slacking on that."

"Oh, of course!" she exclaimed. "I'd love to! I mean, if you still want to."

"I do," he said quickly. "Very much. It's a lot of fun."

"Yeah, it is."

Their faces had magically pulled closer together, so much so that Anna could feel Kristoff's warm, ragged breath against her lips.

"Kristoff?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you again. Thank you for tonight. It was fantastic."

"Of course. And thank you for joining me. You're… well, I like you."

Anna giggled. "I like you, too."

"Anna?"

"Mhm?"

"May I… I mean, would it be alright if… I, um… if I kissed you goodnight?"

"Yes, please."

They both grinned at one another before locking their lips together in a sweet caress. As far as Anna was concerned, Kristoff could kiss her for eternity and beyond. He was like a drug; she tumbled deeper and deeper into euphoric dizziness with each probe of his tongue, each gentle brush of his hand against her back. His body was sturdy and unyielding, and even as the brutal wind kicked up again, she'd never felt so warm and safe. Something began to stir within her deep down. Something _good_.

When they broke apart, they both had glossy eyes and pink, swollen lips. Anna absentmindedly sighed with contentment and they both chuckled.

"You… um, you should probably get inside," he commented after a while. The wind was still blowing furiously around them. "It's pretty cold. You don't want to get sick."

"Yeah, I… do you want to come up?" she blurted out. It was out before she could stop herself, and her face turned a fierce shade of crimson. When he raised an eyebrow, she elaborated. "It's just… well, like you said, it's pretty cold."

Kristoff smiled. "It's alright. I'm used to it."

"Yeah, but it's a long walk back to your car. Come upstairs and get warm. I can make some coffee or even some hot chocolate? Or tea. I also have tea. Please? It's the least I can do after everything you've done for me tonight."

She didn't tell him that in truth, she did not want their night to end just yet. She wanted more time, even if it just meant sitting with him and not saying a word.

"Hm. Hot chocolate does sound nice. Thanks."

"Great."

Once in her living room, Anna removed her coat and shoes and slipped them both into her closet. She spun on her heel to look at Kristoff, almost chuckling when she saw him. He was standing just inside her front door with his hands in his coat pockets and politely awaiting instructions. She studied his face for a brief moment and deduced that he was unsure of what to do with himself. It made sense; after all, the last time he was in her apartment so late, she was out-of-her-mind drunk and puking all over her bathroom. Not to mention, they hadn't shared a searing kiss on the stoop that night, either.

"Um… I'll take your coat, if you want?" she timidly asked.

"Oh! Yeah, sure," he said, hastily tugging the wool jacket from his body and handing it to her. "Thank you."

"Sure," she said, hanging it on the handle of her closet. "So… um… I'll go ahead and start on the hot chocolate?"

Kristoff nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds really good."

"Cool. If you want, have a seat. I'll be back in a few minutes. Feel free to put the TV on."

Anna scurried into the kitchen. As she filled a saucepan with milk, her mind began to drift, and was suddenly stuck with the realization that she may have just led herself into a trap. She'd just gotten home after a first date, and she'd invited the man upstairs for a hot beverage. She'd read books and she'd seen movies, and coffee (or, in this case, hot chocolate) was almost always code for sex. Is that what Kristoff was now expecting?

_No, no, stop_, Anna thought, shaking her head and turning the heat on to warm the milk. _He's not like that. But what if…? Just say he is. Say you go back in there and he wants you. You would have to go through with it now, wouldn't you? You'll lose him otherwise, and he's too good to lose, Anna. And… wait, what? No! What are you thinking?! Don't you dare do something like that, you fool! You're not ready for that! Besides, Kristoff isn't like that and you know it. He doesn't think you "owe him" for dinner or anything of the sort. And even if he does – which he doesn't! - then he isn't that sweet after all, is he? You don't need that kind of manipulation in your life again. No more Hanses, okay? Don't do anything stupid tonight, Anna. Don't fuck this up._

After mixing the cocoa and sugar into the warm milk, Anna turned off the range and went to her cupboard to fetch two mugs. As she did so, she caught sight of her bracelet, instantly reminding her of something Elsa had said to her the time they'd discussed Kristoff: _Just take things slow, remember?_

_And I will_, Anna thought to herself with a smile. She _would_ take things slow with Kristoff, because he was worth that. He was worth the time and patience. Hans had, obviously, been a huge problem, but Anna herself had not helped matters, as her naïve willingness to rush headfirst into a serious relationship and say yes to everything to keep her boyfriend happy had been faults of her own. But she knew that now, and she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice. Luckily for her, she wouldn't have to worry about such opportunities arising, because her gut was correct: Kristoff was not that guy.

She gingerly carried the two mugs of hot chocolate into the living room. Kristoff was waiting for her on the couch, though he never turned the TV on. He smiled when he saw her, and Anna felt her knees grow weak. It was things like that which made her want to chuck time and patience straight into the nearest dumpster, and she even caught herself taking an absentminded glance toward the hall leading to her bedroom, but she pushed the thoughts away.

"Hi," she hummed, sitting beside him and handing him a mug. "I hope it's okay."

"Thank you," Kristoff said. He took a slow sip and smiled. "Wow, this is delicious."

"Thanks. I mean, I'm glad you like it."

"I really do."

"Did you… um, did you want to watch something?"

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

Anna shrugged. "Well," she began, glancing at the digital clock on the cable box, "most of tonight's games should be over. We could check the scores?"

Kristoff grinned. "You're my kind of girl."

Anna laughed and grabbed the remote from her coffee table. She settled back against the cushions as she flipped to ESPN.

"Anna?" Kristoff said.

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind if I put my arm around you?"

She glanced at him and smiled. He was so respectful that it almost brought tears to her eyes. She thought of the flowers in the kitchen, the way he'd held any and all doors for her, how he'd asked for her permission before kissing her. For the loner and grump that he was, Kristoff Bjorgman knew a thing or two about chivalry.

"Of course," she whispered. "Kristoff, you don't ever have to ask."

He grinned and slipped his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled right in to the side of his body and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Save for the groan Anna made when it was revealed The Rangers had won their game, they were silent as they watch the night's hockey highlights. It was, however, a comfortable silence. If Anna had not known better, she would have figured she and Kristoff had done this thousands of times before. It felt natural to be curled up against him on a Tuesday night with her feet up and feeling herself grow tired, like she could fall asleep right then and there and be perfectly safe.

Anna did not know it yet, but that was exactly what she would do that night. She would fall asleep in her date clothes and nestled against Kristoff, and she would wake to find her head against a pillow and her body covered in her favorite throw blanket. She would find a short, simple note on her coffee table, and she would smile as she read it over and over again:

_Anna,_

_I had to get home to Sven, but I didn't want to wake you. Sorry – I hope you aren't upset. I had a magnificent time with you, and I truly can't wait to see you again. Thank you so much for sharing your evening with me. I'll call you soon._

_Kristoff_

* * *

**Author's Note:** This... _really_ did not come out as intended. There was supposed to be more of their dinner conversation but it was so bland and repetitive that I scrapped the whole bit and had him come upstairs with her instead. I think I like it better. I _think_. Still not quite sure yet. Anyway, Kristoff is next, and then we'll possibly be hearing from Elsa again for a bit of Christmas chaos.

To everyone who's been patient while waiting for this chapter to come out, thank you so much for your support, and I appreciate your kindness, respect, and encouragement. You're the reason I keep coming back to this story even though I've gotten so frustrated with it and wanted to give up several times. To those who've felt the need to send me nasty, condescending comments either here or on Tumblr, however, please remember than fan fiction writers have lives of their own. As much as we would like to update every week, it's often not possible when we have jobs, families, classes, and many other real-life things that take precedence over fan fiction. We do what we can, but at the end of the day, this is merely a hobby. Please keep that in mind the next time you want to anonymously lash out at a fan fiction writer for "not giving you" a new chapter quick enough.

Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you all sooner rather than later. :)


	15. In a New York Minute

**Chapter 15: **_**In a New York Minute**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

Kristoff, like anyone, loathed heavy traffic on the highway, but it was a bit more bearable when he wasn't the one behind the wheel. The bus had been flying down the interstate until they hit southwestern Connecticut where, no matter what time of day it was, the road always grew more congested. It made sense, seeing as it was one of the most popular routes into New York, but it was still bothersome, and Kristoff was thankful he didn't have to navigate it.

He preferred when the team traveled by air, but seeing as they were so many teams packed into the Northeast, chartering a plane wasn't always the logical option. This particular away stretch was no exception: they had two games in New York, one in Newark, and one in Philadelphia, all of which were a reasonable driving distance from Boston. They most likely would have been there already if not for the horrendous traffic; the GPS on Kristoff's phone indicated they were only about thirty miles away from the city center but still had over an hour until they arrived. He sighed, tucked the device into his pocket, and resumed staring out the window.

Despite the slow-moving view of buildings and trees in front of his eyes, Kristoff did not see them as he fell into a daydream for what was likely the hundredth time that trip. It had been well over a week since he and Anna went out to dinner, and the outing had hardly left his mind in the days since. All he could think about was how beautiful her face had looked in the dim, flickering candlelight, and how the glow of it seemed to cast a halo upon her hair. He smiled as he thought about how she took small, ladylike bites throughout the meal and how careful she was to frequently dab her mouth with her napkin. He remembered the hot chocolate, Anna finding sleep in his arms, and going home to his own apartment and lying awake for a long time, basking in how happy he was.

In fact, the only thing that really distracted Kristoff from thoughts about his and Anna's first date was the second one. A few days before, they went to see a movie as discussed, and though Kristoff couldn't recall a whole lot about the film they saw, he could certainly remember everything about being in the dark theater with Anna. The way she gingerly sipped her soda, the way her hand bumped his a few times when they both reached for some popcorn, the way she softly giggled at the funny parts of the movie… and, of course, there was the way her head tumbled against his shoulder when he bravely stretched his arm around her. And the way she'd snuggled right in. And the way he'd wanted to abandon all maturity and make out with her right there in the theater like a lovesick teenager.

Kristoff shifted his eyes from the window to the front of the bus, where he could barely see Anna. She was in the second row on the right side of the aisle, and though all he could see was a sliver of red hair, just knowing he was looking at her made his stomach do flips. He'd wanted to ask for a third date immediately after the movie, but it didn't seem like a proper time to do so given they were departing for the away stretch shortly after. Now, Kristoff wasn't sure how or when he would ask, or if he was now supposed to wait for _her_ to ask. Maybe, he considered, he should keep it simple for a while and ask if she wanted to play some more hockey before bombarding her with another date request.

"Just go sit with her already, will you?"

Kristoff glanced to the right at his travel companion. Dimitri was flipping through a magazine with an all-knowing smirk on his face.

"What are you on about?" Kristoff scoffed.

"You've been looking at her so much since we left Boston that I'm surprised you haven't burned a hole into the back of her skull," Dimitri said, finally looking up from the page Kristoff doubted he'd even been reading. "Just go. No one will care."

"Um, her _father_ might," Kristoff countered. "He's sitting right across the aisle from her."

"Dude, Arendelle passed out fifteen minutes into the trip," Troy chimed in from the row in front of him, not even bothering to turn around. "Doesn't matter if it's a bus or a plane; he _always_ falls asleep."

"Will you both drop it? It's not like we're _together_-together, you know?"

"Are you saying she's available?" Miles, sitting behind Kristoff and Dimitri, had caught wind of the conversation and was now craning over the back of Kristoff's seat.

"No," Kristoff and Dimitri both affirmed, and Miles groaned and heavily plopped back down into his seat.

"Seriously, though," Dimitri urged in a hushed tone, "it'll give you a chance to talk some more. How was dinner, by the way?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kristoff muttered.

"Oh, bullshit. C'mon, Tatyana wants to know how you two liked the restaurant."

"You told Tatyana?!"

Dimitri shrugged. "I tell her everything. Besides, I had to get the name of the place from her, remember?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it was fine…"

Kristoff's voice trailed off as he saw that the sliver of red hair he'd been staring at for a good bit of the trip had risen; Anna was walking toward the back of the bus, presumably for the restroom. He attempted to avert his eyes so his infatuation didn't appear so obvious, but he had to sneak a glance as she neared. To both his glee and his dismay, she was looking at him as he raised his eyes, and their gazes met for a fleeting moment. Anna offered him a subtle smile before looking at the ground.

Once Anna was in the restroom, Miles leaned back over the seats, his arrogant face poking between Kristoff and Dimitri.

"Go!" he urged. "What are you waiting for?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't see that? She was totally giving you the do-meeyes. Get in there!"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Kristoff asked incredulously.

"Seriously, what is wrong with you?" Dimitri threw in.

"Oh, c'mon, haven't either of you ever done it in a bathroom? It's sick!" Miles carried on. "I remember on our flight to Phoenix last year, I nailed this girl in the first class bathroom-"

"Nobody cares, Langlois."

"-and it was pretty tight, but that was the whole fun of it, you know? C'mon, Bjorgman, where's the craziest place you've had the Arendelle girl?"

"Fuck off."

Miles's eyes widened. "You haven't had her yet, have you? Christ, Bjorgman, what's taking you so long? I would've been on that day one!"

"I swear to fucking God, if you don't shut your mouth, I'll permanently shut it for you," Kristoff snapped in a hushed tone. "Remember promising to back off of Anna? You're doing a piss poor job."

"Fine, fine!" Miles conceded. "Just keep an eye on her in New York, yeah? Word is she used to bang one of the Westergaards."

"Huh?"

"The Westergaards? You know, the family that owns the Rangers? She used to date one of the sons. Better hope she doesn't go looking for him while we're there."

"I heard they were engaged, too," Jeff Wyatt, who was seated beside Miles, added. "First a Westergaard, now Bjorgman? Whoring her way through the league, maybe?"

"I'll bet the Sabres are next," Miles laughed. "No wonder she's traveling with the team. Fan relations project, my ass."

Miles and Jeff sniggered and leaned back into their seats, quickly forgetting the talk about Anna. Kristoff, however, could distinctly hear one of them mutter _what a slut_; he instinctively balled his hand into a tight fist, and was about to turn around and hurl a punch until he felt a nudge from his neighbor.

"Don't even think about it," Dimitri muttered. "He isn't worth you getting fined or suspended."

"But-"

"I know. I heard it, too. Just let this one go, alright? For your own sake."

Kristoff begrudgingly listened and sank bank into his seat. He took deep breaths in an attempt to quell the rage coursing through him. It wasn't solely about the two douchebags sitting behind him, either, though he did feel like they got off easy; how _dare_ they talk about Anna in such a manner? They didn't know her, and even if they did, they had no right to say such cruel, demeaning things.

However, what angered him most was this Westergaard fellow. Given, it was from the mouth of Miles, so there was no way of knowing if there was any shred of truth to it, but if it _was_ true… was that the boyfriend? Was this Westergaard person the one who kept tabs on Anna's whereabouts and what she ate? Was he the one who made Anna so miserable that she cut her own wrists? It certainly shed a little bit of light on why Anna loathed the Rangers.

_The Rangers_. Hadn't Boston played New York the night Anna got drunk at Four's? Had she _seen_ him that night?

"Hey, is it true?" Kristoff asked Dimitri.

"Is what true?"

"About Anna and the Westergaard guy. I mean, it's Miles telling me this, so who knows how accurate it is."

Dimitri shrugged. "I… I don't know. You know I don't like to get involved in that stuff."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "Mateev…"

"Alright, look," Dimitri conceded, "I heard it, too. A while ago, and it was just talk. It was before you even joined the team, and I haven't heard anything since. So if you're worried about her going back to him-"

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Is that all you know?"

"That's all I know," Dimitri confirmed. "Does it matter that much? Everyone's got a past. Not that big of a deal."

"Yeah, I know."

They left it at that. Dimitri returned to his magazine, and Kristoff dove back into treating the window and the back of Anna's head as opponents in a tennis match. He hadn't even noticed her returning to her seat, and if that wasn't an indication of his earlier fury, he didn't know what was. All he could think about was how she must be feeling. They were staying in New York for five nights rather than the usual one or two; although one game was in New Jersey, it was right across the river and there was no sense in changing hotels for a game that close. That was five nights in the hometown of the man who presumably was her ex-boyfriend, and maybe even her ex-fiancée if Jeff was correct. Anna's stomach must have been churning at the thought.

As the _Welcome to New York!_ sign flew by outside the window as they crossed over from Connecticut, Kristoff decided he'd approach her the second they arrived not for a date, but just to ask if she wanted to hang out. Maybe some company could help her get her mind off things.

* * *

The team was gathered in the lobby at the hotel that would be its residence for half a week. Adgar was cheerfully making conversation at the front desk as he checked them in, but Kristoff only had eyes for Anna. She was standing off to the side, looking at her phone. Kristoff figured she was playing Words With Friends; he'd seen that look of frustration on her face before. He wanted to talk to her right then and there, and maybe even offer his assistance with the game again, but the whole team was there, not to mention Adgar. He'd wait.

"So are you two sharing a room?" a voice beside him sniggered. Kristoff was about to retort until he saw it was Troy standing beside him, and he never meant any harm. He confirmed this by raising a hand. "Relax, I'm only kidding. A few of us are going out for drinks after we get settled in. You in?"

"Nah. Thanks, though."

"So you _are_ sharing a room, then. Kidding! Just kidding," Troy laughed. "See you tomorrow then, yeah?"

As Troy wandered off, Adgar began handing out room keys to everyone. Kristoff was one of the last to get his, as he deliberately lingered in the back of the crowd; he hoped if he waited long enough, the room would clear enough so he could approach Anna. In the end, he got his wish, because within a couple of minutes, only he, Anna, and Adgar remained. Adgar gave his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek and quickly departed. Taking a deep breath and putting a genuine smile on, he walked over to her, and it surprised him that he wasn't as nervous as he once was.

"Hey," he said, smile widening when she looked at him. "How was the ride in for you?"

Anna shrugged. "There's been better."

"Motion sickness? I get it too sometimes."

"What's it to you?"

It took Kristoff a moment to notice Anna had snapped at him. His smile faded when he truly took in her face; her cheeks were pink and her eyes were crinkled in fury... or was it sadness?

"Is everything okay?"

"Just… just leave me alone, alright?" Anna adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder, grabbed the handle of her rolling suitcase, and began to turn toward the row of elevators when Kristoff placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't touch me!"

"Anna, please, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

"I heard everything, okay? I-"

"Everything? What are you-" He stopped suddenly, and his face fell when he realized what she was talking about. It's not as if buses were soundproof, and he, Dimitri, Miles, and Jeff had been seated toward the rear of the bus, not far from the bathroom.

"Anna," he pleaded, "I-"

She cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. I get it. I'm just the team whore, right? I thought it was too good to be true when everyone was being nice to me, but it all makes sense now. You all just thought it'd be easy to get in my pants! But you… I thought you were different, Kristoff. I thought you were better than that."

"Anna, _please_. I didn't-"

But she was already walking away. One of the elevators had opened, and she breezed toward it without a second glance at Kristoff. As the doors began to close, he saw Anna wipe her eye; she was crying.

Though he knew the point was moot, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called her as he headed to his room. With each unanswered ring, his heart sank further and his stomach churned. Anna's voice, while effortlessly beautiful, felt like a knife to the chest each time he heard her voicemail message.

_Hello!_ the recording said in her usual, cheerful tone. _You've reached Anna Arendelle. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you!_

_Hello! You've reached Anna Arendelle. Please leave-_

_Hello! You've reached-_

_Hell_-

Kristoff never actually left a voicemail, but he did opt to text her once he was in his room. He sat on the edge of the bed and began typing furiously, not caring how desperate he sounded.

_Anna, I'm so sorry about what happened on the bus. I'm a fucking idiot for not speaking up on your behalf. I promise you I wanted to, but I didn't want to cause a scene. That was stupid of me. I should have called them out on their shit. I'm so, so sorry. Can you forgive me? Please. I'm sorry._

He'd planned to leave it at that until she responded, but his usually bountiful patience was at an alarming minimum that night. It took three minutes for him to unpack his suitcase and shove the clothes he'd brought messily into the dresser drawers. The moment that task was complete, he was pulling out his phone again without a second thought.

_Anna, please talk to me_, he typed with shaking hands. _I promise, I didn't mean to hurt you. I know you're upset, but can we please talk about this? _

She still didn't answer.

Kristoff leaned back on his bed and took deep breaths. A month ago, hurting someone's feelings wouldn't have bothered him all that much. He would have cared a little, and he would have felt bad, but not like this. A month ago, he would have just scoffed at the other person for being overly sensitive. His mind would not have been reeling so much with thoughts of what he could have done differently, what he _should_ have done differently. In this case, he should have just punched Miles in his stupid fucking face and accepted the fine and suspension; a couple of missed games and the loss of some money would have been a stroll in the park compared to seeing Anna cry because of his idiocy.

He grabbed his phone one more time and began to type another plea and apology, but fortunately, rational thought returned. Kristoff thought of the times he'd been hurt or angry; that last thing he'd ever wanted in those cases was to be smothered. Maybe Anna required that same space. Though it killed Kristoff to know she was sad and she didn't want his comfort, perhaps it would be best to let this run its course and let her come to him in her own time.

_Sorry. I'll leave you alone_, he typed. _I'm in room 526 if you want to talk. Or just call or text. Or just let me know where you are and I'll come see you, if you want. I'm just so sorry, Anna. I didn't mean to hurt you. _

In an attempt to take his mind off things, he turned on the television and began to flip through the channels, but it was no use. The first things he saw on the screen were purple tulips in a documentary about Holland, a cooking program that was showcasing how to make some sort of chocolate truffle, and a romantic comedy that just happened to be in the middle of a date scene. He saw Anna in every one, so he settled on the TV Guide channel to watch the rotating scroll of upcoming entertainment, hoping something Anna-free would catch his eye. Every once in a while, he picked up his phone to check his messages, praying there was something he just hadn't heard the alert for. Each time, there wasn't.

His stomach had been rumbling since they arrived in New York; seeing a hundred restaurants on the way in hadn't helped matters, but he'd been doing a good job of ignoring his hunger in the hope that he and Anna could have dinner together. However, around six o'clock, he caved in and pulled the room service menu from the drawer of his nightstand. He didn't even bother looking through it before dialing the number on the front; he'd just wing it when he was asked for his order.

"You're reached room service. How can I help you today?" a woman answered.

"I'd like to place an order, please."

"Of course. Can I have your room number?"

"526."

"Okay, and what can I get for you?"

"Um-"

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

_A knock at the door._

"Sir?"

"Sorry. I, uh- I'll call you back," Kristoff mumbled before ending the call and jumping off his bed. He jogged to his door and yanked it open.

And there, chewing on her lip and gazing at him, was Anna.

Kristoff felt a wave of relief rush through him. It crossed his mind that she may have shown up at his door out of anger and a desire to yell at him, but even that would have meant she cared in some way. They were both quiet for several moments until they simultaneously spoke.

"I'm sorry," they said in unison. Both Kristoff and Anna gave each other small, apprehensive smiles. She touched her braid, which he'd caught on was a nervous habit of hers, and looked at the ground.

"Would you, um… would you like to come in?" he stammered, stepping aside and opening the door a bit further. To his relief, she nodded.

"Yes, that would be… thank you," she finished.

"Anna," Kristoff began once the door was closed, "I-"

"Wait," she whimpered. "Please, may I go first?" When he nodded, she took a deep breath and continued. "I'm sorry I snapped at you in the lobby. I was just upset about what I'd heard. That's not an excuse, but-"

"Anna, you don't have-"

"Kristoff, please, let me finish," Anna said. "I just want to make it clear that's what I was upset about. I was mad at _them_, not you. I don't want you to think I'm angry you didn't say anything back."

"But I should have," he interrupted. "I-"

"Kristoff, please," Anna repeated. "That could've caused a fight and gotten you in trouble. Don't say it would've been worth it, because it would most certainly not have been," she added when he opened his mouth to retort. "I was… well, it's not the first time I've been talked about in such a manner. It hurts, but… well, it is what it is."

Kristoff shook his head. "No one has the right to talk about you like that."

Anna shrugged. "Thanks, but it's okay. Well, it's _not_ okay, but… yeah. Anyway, that's why I'm here."

"Yeah?"

"I guess I… well, I was worried you believed them," she murmured sheepishly, bowing her head to conceal her pinkening cheeks. "I just wanted to make sure you know that it isn't true. I don't sleep around. I was afraid that after hearing about my… my _past_… you'd think I'm that kind of girl, and I'm not. Normally I wouldn't care what other people think, but I… I like you, Kristoff. I didn't want-"

She stopped when he placed his hands on her upper arms. Anna finally lifted her head, and Kristoff grinned when her eyes met his.

"Have we not already established that Miles Langlois is a fucking moron?" he asked. This made her smile. "Anna, pigs will fly before I listen to a damn thing he says. I never once thought of you in that way, okay?" When she nodded, he added, "just for the record, you know, I _really_ wanted to punch him in the face."

Anna laughed. "Thank you. But, it's probably a good thing you didn't. Who else would I have hung out with on this trip if you'd gotten yourself sent home?"

Kristoff smiled, but said nothing. Anna had planned to spend time with him on the road, and his heart was bursting at the seams with joy.

"Anyway," Anna continued, "I just wanted to clear things up. I'll get going. See you tomorrow?"

"Oh, uh…" Kristoff murmured, sounding more surprised than he'd been wanting to let on. "You, um… you don't want to stay a while?" When Anna looked unsure, he elaborated. "I mean, I was just about to order some dinner. Nothing fancy… just take-out and some TV or a movie. So, if you don't already have plans, you… uh, you could stay?"

"Are… are you sure?" Anna asked slowly. "Even after…?"

Kristoff smiled and shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, it never happened."

Anna looked delighted. "Okay. Sure."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well, er… let's figure out what we're getting then, shall we?"

He'd left the menu where he'd been lazily lying on his bed. Kristoff climbed atop the blankets without thinking twice, and he wasn't aware of the giant elephant he'd invited into the room until he realized Anna had not joined him. She stayed put, nervously chewing her lip again, and Kristoff didn't blame her. Although Anna had fallen asleep beside him before, they'd never been on a bed together, and he assumed his casual, nonchalant approach to the matter was a bit jarring to her.

"Sorry," he quickly said, making to move. "You can have the bed; it's pretty comfortable. I'll take the chair."

"No, no," Anna countered, taking slow steps. She climbed onto the bed beside him. "We can both sit here. Unless you'd rather…?"

Kristoff shook his head. "This is fine with me."

It did not escape his notice that she kept a respectful distance from him. Despite all their cuddles, kisses, and embraces, there was more than a foot of space between them, and Anna made no attempt to close that gap. She stretched out her legs before her, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and wouldn't look at him fully. Kristoff wasn't offended; given what little he knew about Anna's ex-boyfriend, it was perfectly rational for her to be cautious in such a setting. Add in the fact that maybe the guy lived in New York, and that was likely making it all the more worse for her. He could feel the tension radiating from within her and could see it in her locked fingers.

"Hey, Anna?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I'm not going to… you know, _try_ anything," Kristoff assured her. "I don't want you to feel anxious. Please, don't worry."

"I know," Anna sighed. She shifted her body so she was facing him, and she offered him a small smile. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being weird. It's just… nothing."

"Is it because of what Miles and Jeff said? Because Anna, I-"

"No, no, it's not that," Anna assured him. "We've forgotten that ever happened, remember? It's only… well, New York is kind of hard for me, that's all."

"Do you mind if I ask why?" When Anna hung her head, Kristoff immediately apologized. "I'm sorry. That's not my place."

"No, it's okay," Anna sighed. "It's just… remember that ex-boyfriend I told you about?"

"Yeah."

"Well… Jeff and Miles weren't entirely wrong. He was a Westergaard. Things between us… well, things didn't end well. It's a story for another time. But, it does make being in this city hard."

"I understand," Kristoff said. "Just know that I'm here if you need me, okay?"

"Thanks."

With that came a loud rumble from Anna's tummy, and they both laughed.

"Sorry," she giggled. "How unladylike of me."

"No worries. I'm starving, too. Want to look at the menu?"

He held it out to her, but Anna surprised him by shimmying over the blankets to nestle against his side.

"We can look together," she declared softly.

Kristoff smiled and slipped his arm around her shoulder. She leaned right into him, contently sighing and draping an arm across his middle. After a few minutes, they settled on a pizza and a rerun of a comedic show Anna really liked; it was about a group of doctors and the shenanigans they sometimes got into during their shifts. Kristoff had never seen it before, but it was easy enough to catch on to what was happening and he found himself laughing just as much as Anna.

However, if Kristoff were to be asked about the specifics of the five episodes they watched, he would not be able to recall much. What he could do was talk about Anna's hearty, contagious laughter, how warm and soft she was, and the way her hair smelled sweetly of honey and vanilla. He'd be able to talk about how he'd forgotten what it felt like to have a simple evening in with a girl he cared for.

He could talk about how happy he was to finally remember.

* * *

It was eight o'clock when the evening news began and the streak of Anna's show came to a close. As with most hotels, the channel selection was rather limited and there was nothing else on that interested either of them.

"So… um… so now what?" Kristoff asked gingerly.

"Now what?" Anna repeated with a quiet, nervous laugh. "I mean, earlier I'd thought of going for a walk, but it's getting late and-"

"That sounds nice," Kristoff interjected. "We could go to… sorry. I didn't mean to just invite myself along. I'm assuming you were planning to go alone?"

"Originally, yes, but I… well, I'd love to spend more time with you. If you want to, I mean."

"I'd love to," he said a bit too eagerly. Anna giggled.

"So, um… what did you have in mind?"

"Hm?"

"You said 'we could go to…' and then you stopped. What were you going to say?"

"Well, I was thinking, Rockefeller Plaza isn't too far away. It's a nice place for a walk, especially at this time of year. And, you know, there's the rink."

"That sounds nice, but I doubt we could get a spot on the rink. It's so small, and don't tickets sell out pretty fast?"

"Maybe," Kristoff said, "but we can try if you want."

Anna nodded and smiled. "Can you meet me in the lobby in ten minutes? I just need to get my coat and stuff."

"Ten minutes," Kristoff repeated. "Yes."

"Alright, I'll see you in a bit!"

As Anna left, Kristoff immediately took out his phone and went to the website where he could purchase tickets for the infamous ice skating rink. He didn't keep his hopes too high because Anna was correct; it was one of the post popular winter destinations in the city, and tickets were hard to come by in the weeks leading into Christmas. But once the idea popped into his head, he couldn't shake it. The thought of skating around that rink with Anna, her hand in his, surrounded by twinkling lights and beneath that glorious Christmas tree, was something he desperately wanted to make a reality. If he could make it happen, it would be a romantic moment, and one that both of them would surely remember forever. Not to mention, it would hopefully help Anna hate New York a little less, even if just for a while.

He grinned when his phone revealed that there were seven tickets still available for the nine o'clock skate session. They were on the pricey side, but Kristoff reserved two without a second thought. They would have to rent skates, as Kristoff's were with the team gear and he doubted Anna had brought her own, but it would be worth it.

Their walk to Rockefeller Plaza was a short twenty minutes. Anna couldn't believe he'd managed to get tickets, and she thanked him at least ten times on the way. They checked in, got skates, and were on the ice almost immediately. For Kristoff, it was odd to have figure skates on his feet and it took some getting used to, but he was quickly able to adjust. In fact, everything about that particular outing was odd; it had been far too long since he'd skated solely for pleasure's sake and without a hockey stick in his hand. Instead, the presence of a stick was replaced by Anna's delicate, gloved hand grasping his.

It was the most welcome sort of odd.

They talked nonstop for the entire skate session, mostly about upcoming Christmas plans and holidays past. Afterward, they got some hot chocolate for their walk back to the hotel, chatting and window shopping along the way. Kristoff tried to subtly pay attention to things that caught Anna's eye. He'd been single for three Christmases and therefore hadn't had to worry about shopping for a special lady; although he and Anna hadn't defined their relationship, if one could even call it that, he still wanted to get her a present, even if it was small. When they walked by the Swarovski store and he saw her eyes light up at a tiny sunflower figurine, he made a mental note of it. After all, they were in New York for four more days, and that left him plenty of time to come back.

As if she was reading his mind, Anna let out a small sigh. Kristoff glanced at her; she was staring at nothing in particular, lost in a momentary trance of wistfulness if her eyes were any indication.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Oh… yes. Yes, I'm fine. Sorry. Just spacing out, that's all. This place is just so overwhelming, you know? So much to see and do…"

Kristoff nodded, though he knew Anna had tacked on that last bit as a mask for her frustration. It wasn't the city lights, skyscrapers, traffic, and immense crowds that were bothering her. Rather, all those things were reminding her of her history with a certain someone from the city when all she wanted to do, probably, was forget about him. Perhaps she'd previously skated at Rockefeller Plaza with her former lover and Kristoff had unknowingly added salt to her wound. His stomach dropped at the thought, but he didn't question it.

What Kristoff did do, however, was invite her to talk. He didn't expect Anna to give in, but he felt he should at least give her the option. He knew if it were him, he'd like knowing that someone cared despite there not likely being a chance in hell that he would talk about his demons.

"Do you… uh, do you want to talk about it?" he finished lamely. He made to come his free hand through his hair, but he forgot he was wearing a hat. He patted his head, pretending to dust off some snow.

"What about?"

"You know. You and… well, you and New York," he offered. "I just thought… you know, maybe it could help. To talk about it, even just a little. You don't have to, obviously, but I figured I'd-"

"No, no," she interrupted. "You don't have to explain yourself. Thank you. That's… well, that's kind of you."

Kristoff shrugged. "It's nothing."

"No… no, it's not nothing." Anna sighed. "And, well… you're going to find out eventually. Might as well be now."

And she talked. His name was Johannes Westergaard, better known as Hans. She met him when she was eighteen and a sophomore in college. He was there working on his Master's degree; though she never did say in what field, Kristoff assumed it was in business or economics. She hadn't made any solid friendships during her freshman year, and Anna suspected her years of being homeschooled were partially to blame.

"I didn't really know how to talk to people my age," Anna clarified. "Is that weird? Like, I didn't get all the pop culture references and such. Made me seem a little – no, _a lot _– out of touch. And Hans… well, he didn't give me funny looks, you know? He talked to me, and listened. I hadn't really gotten that before him, so I sort of… latched onto him, I guess."

It didn't take long for them to start officially dating. It was normal, as Anna called it, at first, but after a while, not-so-normal things began happening that she didn't even notice. He'd make casual, hardly-there comments about her clothes (_Those pants are so tight!_), her make-up (_Only strippers wear that much!), _and, of course, what she ate (_My buddy's girlfriend loves those kinds of truffles, too; come to think of it, she's put on a bit of weight in the last couple of years_). He would say such things jokingly and with a hint of laughter in his voice, but they got to her and she didn't even know it. She unconsciously began wearing looser clothes and putting on less make-up, and she changed her eating habits. Hans was a master of manipulation.

"I don't even know why I did those things," Anna sighed. "Like… the way I dressed then is how I'm dressed right now. Just jeans and a sweater, and things like that. And I never wore a lot of make-up. But he was trying to make me feel less pretty. Whether it was because he didn't want other men looking at me or he didn't want me to have the confidence to talk to other men, I don't know. Either way, it worked."

Kristoff squeezed her hand tighter as she continued, this time about how he'd managed to make her feel guilty for spending time with her family and, worse, how she was an inconvenience to them anyway. She was made to believe Hans was the only person in the world who truly loved her.

"I know how stupid that sounds. How could I have fallen for such nonsense, right? But it was something I wanted. Love, I mean. I was so desperate to be needed and wanted, _accepted_, that I said yes to the only person who I thought held me in such regard. I was so lonely otherwise. I mean, I didn't really have friends, and my family… well, you get it, right? I just needed someone else, and Hans was it."

Kristoff nodded. He felt terrible for her, and the anger rose like bile within him when Anna spoke of how Hans left her. It was sudden and unprecedented, which left Anna wondering for a long time what she'd done wrong.

"I wasn't in a good place after that," Anna explained. "For the last few months we were together, he was pretty much it. I still saw my sister and parents, but it was seldom, so to have him suddenly not in my life anymore… I just felt abandoned and worthless. And I… nothing. It was just hard. Really hard. Even now, I have fleeting moments of panic when I think he's going to check in on me, or if something I'm doing or wearing is going to upset him. Isn't that disgusting? God, I'm such a mess."

"You're not a mess," Kristoff assured her. "You went through a lot, and that's enough to make anyone nervous and always on guard. But you're far from a mess."

Anna smiled softly. "Thanks."

"You know," Kristoff began, "I was in a long-term relationship, too. Didn't end so well, either."

He wasn't sure why he said it. Maybe he wanted to make her feel better. Maybe he wanted to share a darker part of his past, too, so it was fair between them. Maybe, like Anna, he was finally ready to talk about it. Whatever the reason was, it was out before he could stop it, not that Kristoff necessarily would have, anyway.

"Really?"

Kristoff nodded. "Yeah. Her name was Marissa. We were together for almost four years."

"Were you engaged?"

"No," he answered, "but I'd figured we'd get married eventually. I mean, anyone would, being together that long, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, we… wait, do you even want to hear this? Sorry, I'm not even sure why I brought it up."

"Oh! Yes!" Anna exclaimed before a brisk blush spread across her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so happy about it," she laughed nervously. "I didn't mean it like that. I just like getting to know you, and learning more _about_ you. That's all."

"No worries. I wasn't offended."

"Good," Anna breathed. "So…?"

"Oh, right," Kristoff said. "We started dating in our junior year of high school, toward the end. So, spring time. It was what you'd expect. We'd hang out after school, go to the movies, things like that. Went to senior prom together and all that."

"Oh, you got to go to prom?! That must have been so fun!"

Kristoff shrugged. "It wasn't that exciting, to be honest."

"Still, I'm jealous," Anna digressed. "I always wanted to go to prom."

"Why didn't you?"

"Homeschooling, remember?"

"Ah, right. My mistake."

"Anyway, go on. Sorry."

"Right," Kristoff continued. "I didn't get into college, as you know, but Marissa did. It was in Henniker, about an hour drive from Franconia, so she was home every weekend. I found work with a construction company. Paid pretty well, too, which was good because I didn't have a whole lot in savings, obviously. That was pretty much how it went for a while. I worked and saved as much money as I could, she was in school, and we saw each other every weekend. But it got kind of tiring after a while, you know? It got to a point where weekends weren't enough. When she was home for winter break during her sophomore year, we began to talk about getting an apartment together – one that was about halfway between Franconia and Henniker. We found one that summer, and because she'd found part-time work on campus, we decided to take it. Got some good furniture for it, started settling in, and I figured everything was solid. We'd taken the next big step."

He paused for a moment, and Anna cautiously asked, "What happened?"

Kristoff sighed. "Well, long story short, she met someone else, and not long after her junior year started, she left me. So I was stuck with that apartment and all that furniture and had to pay rent and utilities on my own."

"But that isn't fair!" Anna argued. "It was her apartment, too!"

"Yes, but because she already had her name attached to a bunch of student loans, I was the only one to sign the lease," Kristoff divulged. "That was stupid of me; I know that now. But, I was dumb and in love, and I trusted her. I was planning to ask her to marry me, and all the while, she was screwing around behind my back, not caring in the least that she ended up fucking me over."

He didn't say anything else, but the aftermath flooded back to him. The week after Marissa announced she was leaving him was all a blur; a huge, drunken blur. He only went to work and the liquor store, and ignored the few phone calls he received. That was why Brenda arrived, but he was passed out on the living room floor, so she actually managed to pick the lock and let herself in. Once he came around, she made him dinner and proceeded to give him hell about his behavior. _Got to pull yourself together, boy!_ he remembered her lecturing. _Lying around and up to your waist in empty beer bottles isn't going to solve a damn thing. _And she'd been right. Even though all he wanted to do was wallow in self-pity, he'd needed some tough love to get his ass in gear.

"I'm so sorry, Kristoff," Anna whimpered. "What a bitch…"

"You know, I used to think that, too," Kristoff conceded. "But, it is what it is. I mean, what she did was wrong, but I kind of get it know. She was still figuring out who she was and maybe things were moving too fast for her. I don't know. No point in trying to rationalize it."

"Even if that's true, that was still a shitty way to treat someone."

"Oh, I know, and I was angry about it for a long time. But in the end, some good came out of it, you know? If we hadn't broken up, I probably wouldn't gotten involved in a competitive amateur league and been discovered by Boston."

"That's true," Anna said. "I'm so grateful for that, too. Not that you got hurt," she amended, "but that you're here. Not here in New York – well, that too, I guess – but here in Boston. On the team, I mean, and with me. I mean, not _with_ me, but… _gah_. I'm just so happy I met you, that's all."

"Me, too."

Kristoff let go of her hand, opting instead to slide his arm around her shoulders and pull her close as they finished their walk. She snuggled right in, tilting her head against his shoulder and tucking her hand into the pocket of his coat. All too quickly, they were back at their hotel. Kristoff checked his watch as they approached the revolving glass door; it was already after ten-thirty.

"Wow, I didn't realize how late it is," he commented. "Not that it's a bad thing, but… wow. Time flies."

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

"Just as well, though. We should probably get some sleep." The game was at one o'clock the following afternoon.

"Yeah. Or-"

She stopped suddenly. Kristoff was just about to step aside so she could enter the lobby first, but he spun around to look at her. Anna was still standing on the last step and looking to either side of her.

"Or…?"

"Or… um… or we could walk around a little more?" she suggested, running shaking hand against her braid. "If… if you want?"

"Anna?"

"I'm sorry," she mewled. "We don't have to. New York's just hard for me, that's all, and walking around with you has taken my mind off it. It's been so nice being at peace, and I don't want to let that go yet. Sorry, I'm being selfish. You have a game to rest for. Just forget it. I… Kristoff?"

As she'd rambled on in typical Anna fashion, Kristoff had walked toward her with a smile and did not stop until he was within inches of her gorgeous face. He gently cupped her chin and pulled her close, melting when her soft, delicate lips locked with his own, when her tongue grazed his for the briefest of moments before they broke apart.

"Where would you like to go?" he asked.

"Where… wait, what?" Anna giggled. "Really?"

"Really."

"But the game…"

"Another hour or two won't hurt me." He grinned as he began to walk backward down the sidewalk, holding out a hand to her. "Are you coming or what?"

Anna laughed and skipped over to join him, and they resumed their walk around the city and talked about everything they could think of. Just like before, time flew, and it was close to one in the morning when they arrived back at their hotel. Kristoff walked Anna to her room, gave her a lengthy goodnight kiss, then proceeded to his own room where he flopped down on his bed without even bothering to change. He stared up at the ceiling with a goofy grin on his face for a long time, replaying the evening in his head as if it were his favorite film.

When his eyes finally grew heavy, he stripped down to his boxers and slithered between the sheets. Anna never once vacated his thoughts. That night, they'd gotten into their first fight (a petty misunderstanding, really, but Kristoff figured it still counted), visited a historic landmark, and shared previous heartbreaks that neither of them ever discussed. Somehow, they'd managed to accomplish in one night what many take weeks, months, or even years to do. Old Kristoff would have considered that to be moving far too fast, but new Kristoff liked the magic. What they had was bursting into something new and beautiful, and he was desperate to continue exploring.

And he couldn't wait to go back to Swarovski and buy that sunflower.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This went in a completely different direction than originally intended. That seems to be happening a lot lately. I probably should have split this into two chapters, but I just kinda kept going, and to be honest, I liked having the heartbreak stories told/heard through Kristoff's perspective since I already kind of told it through Anna's. Sorry. Author ramble...

Thanks for reading! :)


	16. Just In Case

**Chapter 16: **_**Just in Case**_

_**-Elsa-**_

Elsa was sipping champagne as she stood off to the side of the Harbor Hotel's grand ballroom, patiently waiting until it was time for her and her mother to give their speeches. Dinner was over, so the party guests were mingling, socializing, and dancing. A few were still at the auction table, writing their bids for autographed items and other team memorabilia. Overall, the gala was a success, and Elsa guessed her father would be writing a large check to the Boston Children's Hospital by the end of the night.

Each December, the organization put forth an event that served as both a charity gala and a Christmas party. The majority of the team was in attendance, as were several former players and coaches. Many season ticketholders were there with their families. Even the mayor and governor had shown up that year. They always invited owners, managers, and players from other teams; though it often interfered with their own schedules and most could not attend, Adgar always felt it was important to extend the invite if not for common courtesy, then at least on behalf of the children.

She caught sight of her sister on the other side of the majestic hall. Anna was making pleasantries with a couple whom Elsa did not know, leading her to assume they were season ticketholders. Nonetheless, she could not help but smile, as Anna was completely in her element. Elsa envied her sometimes, particularly on occasions such as this; she wished that she, too, could be so social and effortlessly personable with everyone. Awkward as Anna could be sometimes, she possessed a rare grace that blossomed to the surface when needed and radiated from within her, touching everyone in the vicinity.

It did not escape Elsa's notice, of course, that such radiance had touched Kristoff. Though wrapped up in a conversation with Andre Lukska, he continuously snuck brief glances at Anna. Despite her reservations, Elsa couldn't blame him; in her floor-length evergreen evening gown and with her hair cascading down her back in soft curls, Anna looked like an angel.

"Elsa! Merry Christmas!"

Elsa turned to the sound of someone calling her name, and grinned when she saw the Mateevs approaching. She'd seen them before dinner but had not had the chance to talk to them due to the complete chaos of helping her family greet guests earlier in the evening. Tatyana, who was always so effortlessly beautiful, had selected the perfect dress to flatter her swollen belly; it was made of a flowing, sapphire blue chiffon that was an impeccable match for her eyes. Dimitri, meanwhile, looked handsome as ever in his formal wear and with his typically ruffled hair slicked back.

"Tatyana! It's been forever!" Elsa exclaimed, pulling her in for a quick hug. "It's so wonderful to see you!"

"You as well! I couldn't miss this. I've been itching for a night out!"

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she replied as she rested a hand on her tummy, likely on instinct. "Just impatiently waiting for March."

"Well, you look incredible," Elsa said, and Tatyana beamed. "And how are you this evening, Dimitri?"

"Swell!" he chirped. "Such a lovely party. Merry Christmas!"

Elsa raised an eyebrow and glanced at Tatyana, who was quietly giggling.

"He's had a few drinks," she explained in a hushed tone. "Between you and me, I think he's trying to compensate for the fact that I can't have any!"

"There she is!" Dimitri sang happily.

Both women shifted their gazes to where Dimitri was lazily pointing; Anna was approaching with a huge smile on her face.

"Tatyana!" Anna screeched. "Look at you! You're glowing!"

"Thank you! You look gorgeous, too, Anna. That dress is fantastic!"

"Thanks! And how are you this evening, Dimitri?"

"Swell!" he said again, and Elsa chuckled to herself. "So swell, in fact, that I think it's time for a dance. Shall we?"

Instead of gesturing to his wife, Dimitri offered a hand to Anna to the surprise of both sisters. Anna furrowed her brow, glancing at Tatyana to gauge her reaction to her tipsy husband's innocent advance. Elsa, too, eyed the latter's face. Tatyana, however, was grinning from ear to ear and slightly waving her hand.

"Go for it!" she laughed. "I'm not one for dancing, especially not now!"

Anna giggled. "Alright, then!"

As Dimitri took Anna by the hand and led her to the dance floor, Elsa turned to Tatyana with an inquisitive look on her face.

"You don't mind Dimitri dancing with Anna?" she inquired. "I thought you liked to dance?"

"Oh, I do," Tatyana declared, "just not with a big belly! Besides, he'd been planning to dance with Anna this evening."

"Why?"

Tatyana smirked. "Because if she dances with Dimitri, it won't seem so suspicious to everyone else if she dances with Kristoff tonight, too."

"Oh." Her response sounded bitter although that was not her intention at all. Elsa wasn't upset, but she was a smidge surprised to hear that even Tatyana knew something was brewing between Anna and Kristoff. As far as Elsa knew, the pair had gone on a couple of dates, but that was the extent of it. Anna hadn't said anything about making their relationship (or whatever it was) public. Then again, Elsa knew her sister often didn't need to say anything in order to spoil a secret.

"Do you not like Kristoff?" Tatyana asked.

"It's not that," Elsa dismissed, though she couldn't deny her unavoidable apprehension about him. "I just wasn't aware that the two were out in the open with their… affections."

"Oh, I don't think they are. Dimitri's just determined to get them together."

"Really? Why?"

Tatyana smiled. "He'll never admit it, but he thinks it's sweet. He and Kristoff are good friends, so he's just happy to finally see him… well, _happy_, you know?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it. So Kristoff really likes her, then?"

"You know Kristoff. He's quiet and doesn't say much, but Dimitri seems to think he does. How about Anna? How does she feel?"

"She's… confused." It wasn't a lie. Even when Anna had excitedly spoken to her about her handful of dates with Kristoff or the night they'd spent walking around New York together, she'd always made it a point to tack on her hesitation. Elsa doubted it was conscious thing, but Anna always finished her Kristoff tales with things like _it wasn't a huge deal, you know?_ or _it's just nice having a friend_. "I mean, she's been through a lot and… yeah."

Tatyana nodded solemnly. "I remember. I don't know everything, of course, but I know that break-up was hard for her."

"Right. Anyway, she's nervous, and rightfully so, but… yeah. Yeah, I think she likes him, too."

_That _part was a lie: Elsa _knew _Anna liked Kristoff, and more than Anna probably even realized herself. The scene on the dance floor made it crystal clear. Troy Pavalov had cut in on Dimitri's dance with Anna, who then passed her on to Kristoff as a new song began. Kristoff had his arms circled around her waist while hers were draped around his neck. There could not have been more than two inches of space between them. They were talking as they swayed together, feet hardly leaving the ground, and their gazes were locked as if they were the only two people left in the entire world.

"I hope it works out for them," Tatyana hummed. "They do look lovely together, don't they?"

Elsa nodded. "Yeah, they do." As cautious as she was about her sister's heart, she couldn't deny such blatant happiness and beauty.

"I suppose… oh, dear."

Elsa glanced at Tatyana. "What?"

Tatyana gestured toward the opposite side of the ballroom. "Isn't that him?"

"Who?" Elsa queried as she scanned the crowd, and her heart sank when she spotted the culprit.

It was Hans. He was sporting a basic black tuxedo while escorting a young woman to the bar. Though clearly engaged in a conversation with his date, his eyes kept darting to the dance floor, and Elsa was fairly certain she knew who he was watching.

"What the hell is _he_ doing here?" Elsa scoffed. "We invited his father, not him!"

"Really?"

"We always invite owners of other teams; my dad insists we do as a courtesy. And his father's actually a wonderful man. It's not his fault his son is an asshole. Pardon my French," she added quickly.

"No need to apologize. He really is an asshole," Tatyana agreed. "Wonder who his lady of the evening is?"

"I honestly don't care. As long as he stays away from Anna, that's all that matters to me."

"I agree," she said. "Anyway, I have to run to the ladies' room. Excuse me. I'll see you later, okay?"

As Tatyana left, Elsa stayed put and continued to watch her sister. A new song had started, and while several couples left the dance floor while new ones joined, Anna and Kristoff hadn't even flinched. It was if they hadn't even realized the original tune had ended. Somehow, they seemed to be even closer than they were before, not caring in the slightest who could see them, and it looked as if they were both battling the urge to kiss the other.

The most important thing, though, is they were both happy. Anna was _happy_, and that was enough to make Elsa smile. Perhaps they weren't a couple just yet, and maybe things wouldn't work out, but at least Anna had that dance, that moment of beauty and wonder, and Elsa was thrilled for her sister in that regard. Anna needed more joyous occasions in her life; the more positive memories she made, the less likely she'd be to fall apart again.

And, in a flash, it was over.

As the second song drew to a close, Elsa saw Anna's face fall. Hans had caught her eye, and Elsa was certain Anna's stomach was churning in a mix of disgust and panic; she'd seen that disheartened look on her sister's face before. She made her best attempt to hide it, though, plastering a smile to her face as she excused herself from Kristoff's embrace. She returned to their table to fetch her purse, and Elsa watched her scurry across the ballroom toward the restrooms, keeping her head as low as she could.

Elsa waited a few minutes before following. Perhaps Anna really did only need to use the bathroom and would return to the party shortly. She was, of course, much stronger than she was the year before, and maybe she wouldn't allow Hans' presence to get to her. But when several minutes had passed, Elsa returned her empty champagne glass to the bar and proceeded to the ladies' room in pursuit of her sister.

The Harbor Hotel's ladies' room was elegant and luxurious, furnished with fancy couches and ornate mirrors. Upon Elsa's entry, Anna was the only person in there. She was seated at one of the vanity sets, powdering her nose. A couple of crumpled tissues were beside her open purse on the table, and her eyes were slightly red.

"Anna?" Elsa asked. "Are you okay?"

She knew the answer. No, Anna was undoubtedly _not_ okay, but asking was better than declaring an obvious assumption.

"Oh, hi," Anna said, putting on her brave face and smiling. "Just touching up. It's so hot out there, isn't it?"

Elsa was about to decline, as she hadn't spent the last ten minutes wrapped up in the arms of a near-lover while surrounded by others doing the same, but she simply nodded in agreement before carrying on.

"Would you like some help?" she offered, pulling up a chair beside Anna. "I know you have trouble with your eyes sometimes."

"Oh, thank you!" Anna chirped, voice cracking slightly. "That would be wonderful! Especially after wine. My hands are a little shaky…"

The wine had nothing to do with that, Elsa knew, but she laughed just the same.

"Sure," Elsa said. She reached blindly into Anna's bag, easily finding the eyeliner pencil and tube of mascara and fishing them out. "C'mon. Turn and face me."

Anna did as instructed, closed her eyes, and Elsa started with the eyeliner.

"You look beautiful tonight," Elsa commented. "That dress really is spectacular. Green suits you. Good choice."

"Thanks," Anna giggled. Even through her make-up, Elsa could see her blushing.

"How're the shoes?"

"Surprisingly comfortable," Anna said. "I thought I'd have to take them off for dancing, _if_ I danced, but I… well, obviously I didn't."

Elsa smiled as her sister's voice trailed off.

"Kristoff looks handsome this evening," she said matter-of-factly, returning the eyeliner to the bag and starting on the mascara.

"Does he?" Anna laughed, voice rising. "I hadn't noticed."

"Anna…"

"I mean, of course I _noticed_, but, you know… everyone from the team looks handsome tonight. It's the suits. Did you _see_ Dimitri this evening?"

"Oh, stop. You know as well as I do that Dimitri is always handsome. Between him and Tatyana, that's going to be one beautiful baby. Alright, done. Open up. Perfect! Ready to get back out there?"

"I suppose," Anna mumbled, hanging her head slightly.

"Are you going to dance with Kristoff again?" Elsa asked.

She said this in an attempt to lighten the mood, because even in their refreshed state, Anna's eyes were still glossed with melancholy. Elsa knew her sister still had Hans on her mind, but she at least smiled at the mention of Kristoff.

"I… I don't know," Anna sighed.

"Why not? You two seemed to be enjoying yourselves."

"We were," she confirmed. "He's… Elsa, he's great. Really great."

"Then what's the matter?"

"Elsa, I know you saw him, too. Hans."

Elsa frowned. She'd hoped that arrogant prat wouldn't get Anna down, and especially not enough for her to bring him up.

"What's he even doing here, Elsa?"

"I don't know," Elsa admitted. "His father was the one invited, not him. Maybe Mr. Westergaard sent Hans in his place? I don't know. Either way, you can't let him ruin your night. You were having a wonderful time out there. I could tell."

"Yeah, but saw me…"

"So? He doesn't own you, Anna. Don't let him control you like that. You're not a host tonight, so you aren't required to speak to him. Just go out there and spend more time with Kristoff. Show Hans you've moved on."

Anna smiled. "You're really okay with that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you don't like him. Kristoff, I mean."

"It's not that I don't like Kristoff," Elsa countered. "I just have my reservations about him. You can't blame me for that. You know I'd have the same concerns about anyone you might be interested in."

Anna sighed. "I know."

"Now, that being said, you dancing with Kristoff is that happiest I've seen you in a long time. As cautious as I am, that's all I want for you, Anna. I want you to be happy." It wasn't a lie; Elsa wanted nothing but joy for her sister, even if it made her nervous and made her feel the need to be vigilant at all times.

"Thanks, Elsa," Anna said with a smile. "That means a lot to me."

"So, go on! Go enjoy yourself. You deserve it."

Anna made a quick movement to give Elsa her hug, knocking over her open purse in the process. Its contents spilled all over the hardwood floor. A tube of lipstick rolled toward the toilet stalls.

"Shit!" Anna exclaimed. She jumped up to reclaim the runaway cosmetic. Elsa, on the other hand, merely chuckled and began gathering all the other items and stuffing them back into the purse: facial powder, blush, Chapstick, hair comb, make-up brush, eyeliner, mascara, eyelash curler, concealer, nail filer, hand cream, Tylenol, keys, wallet, some loose change, and a small, plastic case that Elsa did not need to open to know what it contained.

"Birth control pills?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "I thought you took yourself off these?"

"Oh!" Anna exclaimed sheepishly, tucking her hair behind her ear and kneeling down beside her sister. She took the pack and hastily shoved them back in her bag before standing up and smoothing over her dress. "I did, last year. But I had my annual exam last month and I thought I'd go back on them. You know… just in case."

"Just in case?"

"Y-yeah."

"Are you and Kristoff…?"

"What? No!" Anna laughed nervously. "Of course not! But… I don't know. It's stupid."

Elsa grinned. "Have you two _talked _about it?"

"No! Not at all!"

"Is it somethingyou want?" she egged on.

"No! I mean… what? Maybe… no! No, absolutely not!" Anna sighed, color rising in her cheeks. "I don't know, Elsa. I just figured it's better to be safe than sorry, you know?"

"I know," Elsa assured her. "I'm just teasing you."

"Am I being stupid?"

"For taking precautions? No! Of course you aren't. It's the smart thing to do. Just don't-"

"Don't rush, I know," Anna finished for her. "And I'm not. Really. It's too soon for that. I think. Anyway… yeah. That's that."

Anna's cheeks were still beet red and she was looking everywhere but at Elsa, and the latter understood. Elsa wished her sister knew she didn't need to feel embarrassed. _It's normal_, she wanted to tell her, but she'd been trying her best not to treat Anna like a child. So she left it alone, opting to remind her of the party instead.

"You should get back out there," Elsa suggested. "The night is still young."

"You coming, too?"

"Yes, after I pee," she laughed. The two coffees she'd downed a couple hours earlier to prepare for the night ahead had finally caught up to her.

"Okay. I'll probably be getting dessert," Anna giggled. "It's about that time!"

"Alright, see you in a bit."

Elsa took only a couple extra minutes in the ladies' room. Once she emerged, she fully expected to spot Anna back on the dance floor with Kristoff despite her sister's initial quest for sweets. In actuality, she couldn't find Anna at all, but she did see Kristoff standing against the wall and seemingly staring off into space.

"Mr. Bjorgman?" she said as she approached him. "Good evening."

"Evening, Elsa. And please, it's Kristoff."

"Sorry. Kristoff. I was just wondering if you've seen my sister?"

"Yup," he answered, not even looking at her.

He jerked his head in the direction he'd been staring. It took Elsa a moment to spot her, but there Anna was, next to the dessert table and talking to Hans. He'd cornered her by the looks of it, and Elsa knew Anna was far too polite to tell him off. Her discomfort was evident by the plate in her hands subtly shaking. Elsa felt the anger rise within her and was about to march right over to Anna's side when Kristoff spoke.

"Is that him?" he asked. "The boyfriend?"

"Yes," Elsa scowled; even over a year after the fact, it was painful to admit out loud. "How much do you know?"

"I know enough. Enough to know he's a foul bastard."

Kristoff still had not flinched and kept his eyes locked on Anna and Hans. His jaw was rigid and his arms were folded tightly across his chest, but not in the way Elsa would have expected. She'd figured his aura would be seeping with jealousy, but his eyes told a different story; it was one of protectiveness and concern, of affection and admiration, and one of anger not at her, but at the man who'd hurt her and was potentially doing so again.

"Can I ask you one thing?"

Elsa nodded. "Of course."

"Did he hit her?"

It was a blunt, unexpected question, and he asked it without a trace of hesitation.

"No," Elsa answered. "Not unless there's something she didn't tell me."

"Okay," he whispered with a nod. "Alright…"

"What he did was just as bad, though."

Kristoff nodded. "I know. She should have never had to go through hell like that. I haven't known her that long, but even I can see the effects. She's… she's too good of a person for that. Too kind. It isn't right."

Despite the subject matter, Elsa allowed a small smile. "You really care about her, don't you?"

Kristoff nodded, glancing at Anna again. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. Why does that surprise you?"

"Sorry?"

"Look, I know you don't like me, but I'm not a bad person, alright?"

"It's not that I don't like you," Elsa clarified for the third time that night. "I apologize if I've ever given you that impression. But after everything Anna's been through, I worry about her well-being, perhaps a little too much. You can understand that, I'm sure."

"I get it."

"It's nothing personal, Kristoff," she continued. "I'd be like this with anyone Anna was interested in. She really does like you, and I can tell you care a lot about her."

"I… I'd never hurt her, you know," he murmured. "Not on purpose, at least."

"I believe you. Truly, I do."

Across the dance floor, Hans inched a bit closer to Anna, and she leaned back on instinct. Elsa nearly ran over on impulse, but stayed put. Kristoff, on the other hand, couldn't watch anymore, because he excused himself and exhorted a heavy, frustrated breath.

"I'm just… uh… I'll be right back," he finished lamely. "Make sure he doesn't do anything to her, alright?"

Almost immediately after Kristoff sauntered off, presumably toward the bar, Hans walked away from Anna, leaving her rooted on the spot and unmoving for a moment. Elsa went to her, scooting through couples on the dance floor and trying not to bump into anyone. When she arrived at her sister's side, her heart dropped. Though Anna was not crying, she was visibly shaking, and she was using the silver utensils on the dessert table to return the sweets she'd taken for herself.

"Anna," Elsa said, touching her arm. "Anna, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," Anna quivered, lifting a small chocolate cupcake from her plate with the tongs and putting it back on the silver tray. "I'm just not hungry anymore."

"Anna, what's wrong? What did that prick say to you?"

"I'm fine," she muttered. "Really. Please, just leave me alone."

"Anna…"

"Elsa, _please_," Anna whimpered, finally facing her sister. Her eyes were wet and her voice was shaking. "I want to get out of here, okay?"

"Anna, no," Elsa pleaded. "You were having so much fun! Don't let him-"

"Don't let him ruin my night, I know. It's too late. He already has," Anna choked. She brushed her hand beneath her eye to conceal the lone escaped tear. "I just want to go home."

"Anna-"

"I'll call you later, okay? Good luck with your speech. I'll… I'll see you tomorrow or something. Just… good night."

She didn't give Elsa another opportunity to argue. Anna sped away to fetch her purse and coat, and Elsa knew there was no stopping her. She was furious that her sister's fun had been spoiled, but there was no point in trying to convince Anna to stay when she was upset. But Elsa's concern didn't stop there; she didn't want Anna going home alone. Though Anna traveled the familiar route between the arena and her apartment daily, it was never at such an hour and when she was a wreck. Not to mention, the Harbor Hotel was a bit further away from home than her usual haunts.

But what was Elsa supposed to do? It wasn't as if she could leave yet; she still had obligations to fulfill. The podium she would share with her parents in just under fifteen minutes was already being prepped for their speeches and the announcement of the auction winners. In a hurry, she headed to the bar area with the hope of finding the one person she was sure would help her.

"Mr. Bjorgman," Elsa greeted once she spotted him. "I mean, Kristoff. Excuse me."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"No... yes. It… well, it's Anna."

"What happened?" he implored.

"I don't know," Elsa confessed. "She wouldn't tell me. But she's really upset and she left."

"She… she _left_? Like, left the party, left?"

"Yes. She's going home alone and… I'm just worried. I have a speech to give soon so I can't leave. I know it's a lot to ask, but I was wondering, would you-"

"Of course," Kristoff declared, cutting her off. "I'll just get my coat."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all. I don't want her walking around the city alone this late, either. The fact that it gets me out of here early is just a bonus."

"Thank you. Thank you so much, Kristoff. Here," she said, grabbing a napkin and pen from the bar counter. "This is my number. Could you please just text me once she's home safely?"

"No problem. See you later. Good luck."

He was gone in a flash, not even bothering to say farewell to anyone. Elsa let out a sigh of relief. Anna hadn't been gone long; she was sure Kristoff would catch up. As long as Anna was safe and not alone, Elsa could breathe easily. Until…

"Good evening, Elsa."

Elsa felt a lump form in her throat when she felt the presence of someone standing beside her. She didn't even bother looking to see who it was; she'd know that voice anywhere.

"Evening," she responded coolly.

"Ouch. Not a very pleasant way to greet your guests, I must say."

Elsa glared at him. "What can I do for you, Mr. Westergaard?"

"Haven't we known each other long enough for you to call me Hans?"

"Fine. _Hans_. What are you even doing here?"

"Well, my father regretfully could not attend, as I'm sure you know," he explained haughtily. "But seeing as the Knicks are in town this weekend, I thought I'd come in his place."

"The Knicks?"

"The Knickerbockers? Basketball? They have their match against the Celtics tomorrow."

"And what, may I ask, do you have to do with the Knicks?"

"My lady's family owns the team," he said, gesturing across the room to the girl who'd accompanied him to the party.

"Isn't that nice," Elsa quipped. "Settling on basketball, seeing as you'll never inherit a hockey team?"

"That was unnecessarily harsh. We simply enjoy traveling to the away games on occasion. Speaking of traveling," he added, "am I correct in my understanding that Anna now travels with the team?"

"What's it to you?"

"Not a thing. Just seems like a good fit for her is all. I'm happy for her."

"Well, aren't you the charmer," Elsa said. "Maybe you should do both her and yourself a favor and mind your own business. In case you've forgotten, you aren't part of her life anymore."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that. Seems like she's got her hands full with Bjorgman, anyway."

Elsa glared at him. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Elsa," Hans sneered. "I know you aren't blind. Didn't you see them dancing earlier?"

"Perhaps you're the blind one, because Anna also danced with Mateev and Pavalov," Elsa retorted as she recalled what Tatyana had said earlier.

"Ah, but not like she danced with Bjorgman," he countered. "Mateev and Pavalov? One hand on their shoulders, the other in their hands. Respectable distance. Classy. Traditional. Bjorgman? I'm surprised she kept her dress on, the little whore."

"You're disgusting!"

"Why, because I'm telling the truth? The truth hurts sometimes. She'll find that out soon enough."

"Excuse me?"

"Surely you've heard from your father about the trade discussions between Boston and New York?" Hans took a sip of his drink and smiled. "Our organization has been in heavy talks to push for Langlois, but I'm thinking now might be a good time reopen a dialogue about Bjorgman."

"What is your problem?" Elsa snarled. "Why are you so keen on making her miserable?"

"Ah, so you're admitting there is something brewing between Anna and Bjorgman?" Elsa said nothing and only glared at him. "Here's my problem, Elsa: I don't like when people play with my things."

"She is _not_ yours!" she growled in a hushed tone. It took every ounce of her willpower not break his nose.

"Oh, Elsa. If that were true, she'd still be here, wouldn't she? That sister of yours can fall for whoever she wants. She can fuck her way through the entire league, even. But she will always be mine. I could be miles away, but I'll be there. I'll be in her head. _Always_. Merry Christmas, Elsa. I'm sure we'll meet again."

Before Elsa could say another word, Hans was gone. She thought she was going to be sick, and it had absolutely nothing to do with her upcoming speech. Was he right? Would he always have Anna? Would her poor sister ever be able to completely shake him?

She returned to the table to fetch her purse. Elsa fished out her phone, desperate for a distraction. Lucky for her, there was already a text from Kristoff awaiting her. She held her breath as she opened it, praying for good news.

_Hey, I found her, _it read_. She's fine. Not home yet. We stopped at a bakery for coffee and dessert, and I'll bring her home right after. Promise. Want me to have her call you later?_

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. Hans may have said some foul shit to her, but at least she was now away from it all and with someone who unmistakably cared for her. Not to mention, she was diving into a delicious treat that likely included a decent amount of chocolate, and such indulgences never failed to cheer her up. A pacified smile graced her lips as she typed her reply:

_Yes, I'd appreciate that. Thank you so much, Kristoff. For everything._

It didn't seem like enough of a sentiment to express her gratitude, but she really couldn't think of anything else to say in the moment. She figured it was because there was still uneasiness about Kristoff's interest in Anna meandering through the back of her mind. She took solace, nevertheless, in feeling that trepidation rapidly dwindling thanks to the events of that night, and it gave her hope that she was on the path to accepting Anna opening her heart once more.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father waving her over. Elsa tucked her phone away and proceeded to the podium to address the ballroom full of guests. She stood off to the side as her father gave brief introductions and offered his best holiday wishes. From where she stood, she could see Hans and his latest girlfriend toward the back of the crowd. He nodded in her direction, and she returned the favor with a stone-cold glare.

_You will never hurt my sister again, you smug bastard_, she thought. _And you will not be getting Kristoff Bjorgman. I'll see to that_.

"And now," Adgar announced, "it is with joy and pride I welcome my daughter, Ms. Elsa Arendelle, to the floor."

Elsa smiled, shook her father's hand, and stepped in front of the podium as the crowd applauded.

"Good evening…"

* * *

Christmas Day flew by, but then again, most holidays did. It seemed cynical, but Elsa was indifferent toward most holidays for this very reason. Perhaps others had different experiences, but for her, there was always so much to do for the holidays, and as much as she enjoyed seeing her extended family, entertaining was exhausting. Every year, her parents hosted a Christmas dinner at their Newton home, and of course she and Anna volunteered to help out; they always had when they were growing up, and that wasn't about to change now that they were adults.

That year, the last of their guests left around eight in the evening, and though that was relatively early on an average day, all she wanted to do was sleep. The whole family did, really, but there was still work to be done. They all pitched in cleaning up: Elsa and Idun cleaned the kitchen, while Adgar and Anna tidied the two sitting rooms and dining room. By teaming up, it only took about a half an hour to get the bulk of it finished, and they opted to save some of the smaller things for tomorrow. Their parents were the first to retreat to bed; they always were. Anna went upstairs shortly after (_I'm not tired yet; I just _need_ a shower! _she'd insisted), leaving Elsa in the sitting room by herself for a while. She didn't mind; after a day of chaos, it was nice to simply sit in a cushy armchair with a cup of tea and only the crackling sound of the fireplace to keep her company.

She waited for the fire to die and eventually trudged upstairs. Elsa planned on going straight to bed, seeing as she usually showered in the morning, and reckoned it wouldn't take her long to fall asleep. On her way to her room, however, she noticed that Anna's door was cracked open. This wasn't anything alarming; her sister often slept with her door open, especially when they were back home. What caught Elsa off guard was that Anna was still awake, sitting on the edge of her bed and fidgeting with a small object in her hand.

"Hey," Elsa said gently, leaning against the doorframe.

Though their parents had converted their childhood bedrooms into guest rooms once they'd moved out, the sisters always reclaimed the rooms they'd grown up in whenever they spent the night there. Though Anna was now surrounded by generic furniture that was almost hotel-like, Elsa could still perfectly envision the way the room used to look: the lilac purple walls, the random articles of clothing scattered across the tan carpet, the pile of stuffed animals on the bed, the bowl chair in the corner, the Wayne Gretzky poster next to the window, and the turquoise lamp on the nightstand. Anna looked up at the sound of her sister's voice and smiled.

"Hey," she answered. "What're you still doing up?"

"I could ask you the same question," she chuckled. "Mind if I come in?"

Elsa sat beside her sister when she was given the green light, letting out a heavy breath as she did so.

"What a day!" she laughed. "I plan on sleeping very, very late tomorrow morning."

"Me, too," Anna agreed with a giggle. "We've earned it!"

"So why're you still up? Can't sleep?"

"Oh, I'm sure I could. Just thinking about stuff. The Youth Hockey Program, mostly. It's coming up soon. Lots to plan still."

Elsa nodded, then gestured toward her hands. "What's that you've got there?" Anna handed it over, and Elsa gasped. She was expecting a stress ball or something of the sort, but what she saw was a small, crystal figurine of a sunflower. She turned it over, and it twinkled as the light from the reading lamp hit it. "This is beautiful! Is this Swarovski?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah."

"Where'd you get it?"

"It was a Christmas present."

Elsa grinned. "From Kristoff?"

Anna blushed. "Yeah."

"Wow," Elsa breathed. "It's gorgeous."

"Yeah," Anna agreed. "He gave it to me after the party. When he brought me home, I mean. I wasn't even expecting a present. It was just really sweet of him."

"Did you get him something?"

Anna nodded. "I found a book about the best hiking trails in New England. I reckon he's done some of them already, but… well, I just wanted to get him something, and I was at a loss. Men can be so hard to shop for."

"I'm sure he loved it."

"He really did," Anna said, beaming as she recalled the memory. "I… I hadn't wrapped it yet, so I just made him close his eyes when I handed it to him. He started flipping through it right away, and started flagging pages and talking about the ones he'd like to hike with Sven. Sven's his dog," she added.

"That's great!"

"Yeah. I just wish I'd gotten him more," Anna sighed. "I never thought he'd get me such a beautiful gift. Such a personal one, too; he knows I love sunflowers. And it must have cost a lot… I just feel bad…"

"Don't," Elsa soothed. "Gifts aren't about money. And if you're worried about it, just remember he wouldn't have spent the money on it if he didn't think you were worth it. He… he cares a lot about you, Anna."

"I know he does," Anna said, her voice cracking slightly. "He's so good to me, Elsa. I don't deserve him."

"Yes, you do. Anna, you deserve to be with someone who treats you right. You deserve to be happy. Are you two getting serious?"

Anna shrugged. "I… I don't know. I think so? We haven't really discussed it, but… it feels real, you know? I feel like this could actually go somewhere if I allow it to."

"If you allow it to? Are you thinking of… well, not allowing it?"

"I don't know. I want to, but… it's scary."

"I know."

She handed the figurine back to her sister, and they sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Anna resumed mindlessly toying with the sunflower, gently turning it over in her hands. Elsa eyed her face; Anna was smiling as she stared at Kristoff's gift and looked as if she was withholding joyful tears.

"You should call him," Elsa suggested after a couple of minutes.

"What?" Anna gasped, snapping out her trance. "No! I can't do that! It's Christmas!"

"All the more reason to," Elsa urged with a smile. "Wish him a merry Christmas."

"I could text him that… and I did. It's pretty late now, anyway," Anna scoffed.

Elsa glanced at the clock on the nightstand and rolled her eyes. "It's not even nine-thirty yet."

"Still. He's up in New Hampshire with his family. His adoptive family. I mean, foster… he's with his family," Anna finished. "I don't want to bother him."

"I'm sure he'd love to hear from you," Elsa encouraged. "It's not like you have to talk for long. Just call, ask how his day went, and wish him good night."

"I suppose," Anna conceded. "You really think he wouldn't mind?"

"I'm sure of it."

Anna grinned. "Alright."

"Oh!" Elsa exclaimed. "But before you do, I have something for you. Hang on." Elsa ran to her room to quickly grab the small gift bag she'd hidden in one of the drawers in her room. "I completely forgot about this," announced upon her return, handing it to Anna.

"Another present?" Anna queried. "But we already did presents this afternoon!"

"True, but this is a unique one. I didn't want you opening it in front of the whole family."

"Uh-oh," Anna murmured. "Is this a trick?"

"Nope."

"Is something going to jump out at me? Is it illegal? Is it a stink bomb?"

"No!" Elsa laughed. "Will you just open it?"

Anna narrowed her eyes, but nonetheless excitedly pulled the tissue paper out of the tiny gift bag. She quickly fished out the small, pink gift card tin, raising an eyebrow when she realized what it was.

"A gift card?" Anna asked, pulling it open. "Thank you, but why would you be so secretive ab… Victoria's Secret?"

Elsa smirked and shrugged. "Just in case."

"_Elsa!_"

"What?" Elsa laughed. "I just figured you and Kristoff are getting close, and you might wind up with the desire for something naughty down the road."

"_Elsa!_" Anna exclaimed again, but she was giggling, too.

"You can look at it as a gift for him, too, if that makes you feel better."

"Stop!" she giggled. "I can't breathe!"

"Okay, okay, sorry!" she conceded. "I couldn't help it. But really, use it for whatever you want. They have pajamas and perfumes and stuff."

"I know."

"But I just figured, if and when that time comes, you can get something that makes you feel beautiful. I mean, you _are_ beautiful, obviously, but it's nice to _feel_ pretty, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," Anna agreed. "So… um… does this mean what I think it means?"

"What?"

"Do I… um… do I have your blessing?" she whispered. "To be with Kristoff?"

"Anna, you never needed it. You're your own person and you can be with whomever you want. You don't need my approval or anyone else's, not even Mom or Dad's."

"I know, but I want it," Anna said. "You're my sister. I want you to like the person I like. So…?"

"Fine," Elsa laughed. "If it makes you feel better, then yes, you have my blessing."

"Really?!"

"Really. He's… he's a good man, Anna," Elsa conceded. "I was skeptical before, but I've seen the way he looks at you. And the way he treated you the night of the party, the way he bolted out of there the second he heard you were distraught… he really, _really _cares about you."

"He does, doesn't he?"

"And from what you've told me, he's an excellent kisser, so that's a plus."

"Elsa!" Anna giggled. "He really is, though… and he gives great hugs."

"And a guy like that deserves a phone call on Christmas from the lady he likes," Elsa reminded her happily. "Call him!"

"Okay, okay, I'll call him. Thank you for the present."

"Of course. I love you. Have a good night."

"Love you too. Good night. Oh, and Elsa?"

"Yeah?"

Anna smiled. "Could you close the door?"

Elsa laughed. "Sure thing."

As instructed, Elsa shut Anna's bedroom door as she left, but she couldn't help but stand outside it for a minute. She couldn't help it; she pressed her ear against the door as Anna called Kristoff.

"Hello? Kristoff?" she heard Anna's muffled voice from the other side of the door. "Hi! It's Anna! Merry Christmas… Thanks! Yeah, it was great! How about you?... What? Really? That's awesome! Did you get any snow up there?... Oh, I'm jealous! We didn't even get a dusting!..."

Elsa left after that, a huge smile plastered to her face. It was so nice to hear Anna's cheerful voice. It was a voice that had been silent for far too long, and she couldn't be happier that it was being resurrected and seemingly coming back stronger than ever before.

She fell asleep quickly, as she suspected she would, but her bladder woke her all too soon. Elsa glanced at her bedside clock and saw that it was just before midnight. She groggily heaved herself out of bed and pattered into the hallway toward the bathroom. She stopped when she saw light pouring out from under Anna's door. Unable to stop herself, she stood just outside of it, listening.

And sure enough, Anna was still on the phone with Kristoff. Elsa, sleepy as she was, grinned to herself, and wondered if Anna knew yet that she was slowly but surely falling in love.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I suck at writing Elsa. Consider that my official disclaimer for any Elsa chapters here on out. :p Anna is next, then back to Kristoff. There may or may not be an Adgar chapter in the near future as well. I haven't decided yet.

Thanks for reading!


	17. Auld Lang Syne

**Chapter 17: **_**Auld Lang Syne **_

_**-Anna-**_

Anna had picked the perfect day to go to the mall. She knew the week between Christmas and New Year's was always a disaster, what with people making holiday returns and spending the money they received as gifts, so she avoided it during that time; if she really needed something that badly, there was always Amazon. Instead, Anna always waited until a few days into January for her annual New Year treat.

To be fair, such an outing could hardly be considered annual yet as it was only the second year she'd done it. Last January, a few months after her break-up with Hans, Anna was finally starting to feel like an actual person again, and she'd made the resolution to be kinder to herself. While Anna had never been one for the tradition of making a self-improvement promise in January and breaking it by February, she had decided to try it the previous year, determined to follow through. It was a success, and it started with a trip to the mall a week after the New Year. On that day, she treated herself to clothes, shoes, accessories, make-up, and some new movies and music. As there was no rule against repeating a resolution, she decided to make the same one again, and what better way to be kind to herself than by having an Anna day?

Aside from New Year's Day, her first weekday off in the new year was the fifth, a Tuesday. Anna began the day by stopping at the salon for a manicure and pedicure. Afterward, she headed to the mall. She didn't spend a lot of money considering all of the things she found. She picked up a couple cute sweaters and a new pair of boots at a steep, post-holiday discount, as well as several scarves and a handbag. Though she didn't wear jeans often, she bought a dark navy, flared pair that were just a tad too long for her, making them perfect for wearing with heels on a night out. Anna used the gift card Elsa had given her on some lotions and sprays, as well as three pairs of the softest pajama pants she'd ever touched.

With shopping bags dangling from both of her arms, Anna practically had to waddle down the main corridor toward the exit nearest her car. She wanted a milkshake, but she had enough to carry as it was, and she could always get one later when she met Elsa for dinner. She looked through shop windows as she walked, praying that nothing else would catch her eye as she was quite sure her arms couldn't handle another bag. Anna was lucky in that regard until she came across a store front featuring several mannequins dressed in lacy lingerie.

In that moment, against her better judgement, she thought of Hans.

Anna stared at the storefront for a moment, contemplating whether she should go inside. She'd never bought sexy lingerie for herself, instead only purchasing basic undergarments for her simple, everyday life: no lace, no frills, and only in white, black, and tan. This wasn't to say she'd never worn sexy lingerie, however. Hans had bought her some a few times, and Anna cringed at the memory; she'd always felt so self-conscious in those skimpy little outfits, probably because he always bought her push-up bras seeing as what she had was never good enough for him.

She shook Hans out of her head and continued walking toward the mall's exit, and instead allowed her mind to drift to Kristoff. Anna would have been lying to herself if she claimed she hadn't had impure thoughts about him, and how sometimes she wanted said thoughts to come true. In fact, it frightened her how much she wanted to be intimate with him. What scared Anna the most, however, was the very real possibility that Kristoff might not like the way she looked. If their budding relationship continued to blossom, him seeing her naked was inevitable, and Anna could only assume she'd disappoint. She was too dainty, too pale, too freckly to be considered sexy or beautiful. And Kristoff… well, he was a professional athlete, for goodness sake. Though she loathed thinking about it, Anna figured he'd been with his share of women, and they were probably all tan and busty and gorgeous.

After stuffing all her shopping bags into her trunk, Anna started the car, buckled up, but didn't shift the gear. Instead, she rested her hands on the steering wheel and stared ahead at nothing, wondering for the umpteenth time why she couldn't fathom thinking of herself as beautiful. A lot of it, she knew, had to do with how Hans had treated her, but was her sense of self-worth so disturbingly low that Kristoff's obvious interest in her couldn't even give it a boost? He thought she was pretty; shouldn't that have at least counted for _something_?

Anna knew it did in a way, as she couldn't deny the warmth that spread throughout her entire being when she was reminded that a man like that cared about her for real. But it wasn't enough. Perhaps it was a residual effect of her past, but Anna didn't want all of her good feelings to be the result of another person. What if things didn't work out or, worse, if they did work out but eventually fell apart and she lost him? She couldn't go through feeling like nothing again.

Before Anna knew it, she was walking back into the mall and heading for Whispers, the shop with all the scantily clad mannequins on display. The store, which had a few locations in the metro area, specialized in ladies' sleepwear, underthings, and accessories. It was a bit pricier than the more commercialized Victoria's Secret, but Anna had heard the quality was far superior. It took a lot of her willpower not to look at the pajamas near the store front; there was nothing she loved more than cuddling up in warm, fuzzy loungewear with a mug of hot chocolate. While some women hoarded shoes and others collected purses, Anna owned far too many nightclothes, particularly pajama bottoms. As such, she walked on toward the back of the store where the naughty things were kept.

Whispers did offer basic lingerie, similar to the kind she usually bought. However, Anna could not deny the beauty of the ones crafted in silk, mesh, and lace. And it wasn't just bras and underwear, either: there were garters, stockings, corsets, bustiers, and short, dress-like things that Anna suspected barely covered the important stuff. Perhaps, she considered, she could work up to those things one day. For now, she wanted something simple, yet beautiful. Just as she was about to start wandering around, she heard a voice behind her.

"Good afternoon!" a woman chirped. Anna spun around to see a saleslady with a pleasant smile. Her name tag read _Denise_. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"Oh, no, than-" Anna began by default, as she rarely needed help while shopping. However, this was rather new territory for her, and seeing as this was a woman who worked in a lingerie store, Anna was sure she didn't need feel embarrassed talking to her. "Actually, yes. I'm looking for, um… something," she finished sheepishly.

"Something," Denise repeated. "Okay, what kind of something are we talking about? Romantic? Kinky? Playful? Themed? Bad-girl?"

"Oh! Um…" Anna could feel the color rise in her cheeks despite the Denise's nonchalance. "Romantic, I guess? I'm just looking for something basic, but not… _too_ basic. Does that even make sense? I'm sorry, I'll just walk around and-"

"I think I know what you're looking for," she said. "Please follow me."

Denise led Anna to a rack of matching bras and panties in a variety of colors. They were basic, as Anna had asked, but had lovely lace overlays that rose just above the height of each garment.

"These are a great investment," Denise hyped. "The lace is smooth enough that it hides nicely beneath regular clothing. You can even wear the bra under a t-shirt and no one will notice."

"They're gorgeous," Anna commented.

"Yes, and they're very comfortable. They'll last long time, too. Is there a particular color you're looking for?"

"Um, I was thinking black," Anna said. "Or maybe red. Not bright red, but a dark, blood red."

"Unfortunately, these don't come in dark red," Denise conceded. "But there is black, and there's also dark plum, if you'd like to try that?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay, what's your cup size, miss?" Denise asked, sorting through the racks. "If you're unsure, we can do a fitting."

"It's, um… 34-B," Anna said sheepishly. She was so insecure about the size of her breasts, probably because she'd spent two years receiving subtle implications that they were too small.

"Okay, and for bottoms? What pant size do you wear?"

"Four."

"Okay, so you'll most likely wear a small, but I'll grab a medium, too, just in case. And what kind of bottoms do you like?"

"Sorry?"

"Thong, bikini, boyshort…?"

"Oh! Um… either bikini or boyshort, please." Anna had never liked thongs. She used to wear them for Hans, but she never much cared for the constant feeling of having something wedged in her crack. Now, she only wore them with dresses when she needed to avoid lines.

"Alright." Denise emerged from the opposite side of the rack with a handful of undergarments for Anna to try on. "Give these a go. Is there anything else you'd like to try? We're having a sale on some bustiers at the moment."

"Oh… no, but thank you. These should be fine."

Denise led her to a fitting room. It was an elaborate space with mirrors on all sides, fancy lighting fixtures, and an elegant chair. Anna slowly stripped down, placing all of her clothes on the chair neatly, and tucking her shoes beneath it. Before slipping into the lingerie, she stared at her naked body in the mirror.

_You're such a bony girl._

_Why don't you get a wax?_

_Well, at least they aren't completely flat._

_Shut up, Hans_, Anna thought. _Anna, don't listen to him. You're gorgeous._

But would she be beautiful to him? If Kristoff ever did see her, would he love her the way she was? Could he accept her minimal curves and small breasts, or would he demand changes? Or, worse, would he deem her not worthy of his time and move on to the next girl?

_Stop, Anna_, she silently stressed. _This isn't about Kristoff, either. Of course it would be nice if he… no. Enough. This is about you, and only you._

Anna gingerly unhooked the onyx brassiere from its hanger; expecting its lace overlay to be coarse, she was surprised to run her thumb over it and find that it was soft and smooth to the touch, as if it were actually made of the finest silk. It was certainly of high quality and would be worth the money if it fit well. Anna slipped it over her shoulders and reached behind her to clasp it, but did her best to avoid looking in the mirror before she had the matching panties on as well; she wanted to see the complete picture.

When she finally did, even she had to withhold a gasp. The bra was just what she'd wanted: it didn't push up anything, but rather accentuated what she had. The tiny bit of lace poking over the top of each demi-cup was a lovely touch. The panties, while risqué, left something to the imagination. Though her front was completely covered, the rear allowed a tiny glimpse of her bottom while hugging everything else tightly. The ensemble was simultaneously flattering while somehow emphasizing the appropriate places.

She wanted to cry. Never before had lingerie made her feel beautiful, confident, and, dare she think it… _sexy_. For the first time Anna could remember, she looked and felt like a woman – not a girl, not a young lady, but a grown woman, and one who was worthy admiration, deserving of being treated like a princess.

_No, not princess_, Anna thought. _Queen_.

"Miss?" she heard Denise politely call from outside. "Pardon my interruption, but I just wanted to check to make sure everything was going okay. Do you need me to fetch you another size or color?"

"Oh, no thank you," Anna replied, not tearing her gaze from her reflection. "These are working quite well."

"I'm glad to hear it. Please, just holler if you need any assistance."

"Thank you ver… actually, Denise?"

"Yes, Miss?"

"I, well… I'm going to take these. Both sets," Anna clarified. She didn't need to try on the purple set to know it would fit just as nicely, and she was completely in love with the color.

"Excellent! I'm so happy they're working for you."

"Yes. Anyway, I was wondering… could I bring only the tags of one of the sets to the register?" she asked. "I… well, I'd like to wear them out of here."

"That's perfectly fine, Miss."

Anna thanked her, tore the tags off the black set, and proceeded to put her clothes back on. She didn't feel right carrying the bra and panties she'd worn to the mall out in the open, so she shoved them into her purse until she had a shopping bag. Nearly two hundred and fifty bucks for four pieces of lingerie seemed outrageous, but Anna determined it was well worth the money considering she felt like a million dollars as she exited Whispers. Though no one else could see it, she knew she looked delicious beneath her clothes; for the first time in her life, her own morale was enough.

Nonetheless, Anna could not help but wonder what Kristoff would think when and if he saw her in the magnificent lingerie, and she surprised herself by realizing she couldn't wait to show him when the time was right. She knew her newfound confidence could, and likely would, fade in time, but she basked in it while it lasted.

She, Anna Arendelle, was an exquisite, beautiful, sexy woman. A queen.

* * *

As it had a tendency to do, the Saturday devoted to the Youth Hockey Program crept up with little warning. Anna always suspected this phenomenon had to do with everyone's yearning for the All-Star Break which, despite only being a week later, felt like it was centuries away. On the morning of the sixteenth, she was at the arena early, excitedly preparing last minute handouts, triple checking the catering orders, and decorating the exhibition hall. Her father strolled in around ten-thirty in the morning as she was blowing up black and gold balloons.

"Good morning!" he greeted cheerfully. "Wow, this place looks great! How long have you been here, exactly?"

"Oh! Not too long!" Anna chirped. "I came in around eight."

"Eight?!" Adgar exclaimed. "Anna, I admire your dedication, but honestly, the kids aren't due to be here until noon."

"I know, I know. But you know how much I love this event. It's just so much fun!"

"Yeah, I know," he laughed. "Do you need any help here?"

"Nah. I'm just about done. I'm going to get the rink ready next. Wanna help?"

Adgar grinned. "I'll fire up the Zambonis."

About fifteen minutes later, Anna went out to the rink and could only laugh at the sight before her. Her dad, dressed in his standard suit and tie, was slowly driving one of the two Zambonis around the ice, leaving what looked like glass in his wake. Though she knew the other one was ready for her, she didn't bother going to fetch it. Her dad made it look easy, but Anna knew from experience that driving those slow, clunky machines in perfect ovals was no easy task; doing so was comparable to having a cart at the grocery store with a busted wheel, multiplied by hundreds in terms of weight.

Or maybe she was just a poor driver.

"Hey!"

Anna spun around, face twisting into a grin when she saw Kristoff approaching. He was smiling, too - a stark contrast to how he once was, and Anna quite liked the change. She wondered just how much of it had to do with her.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, instinctively wanting to hug him but refraining out of professional obligation. Instead, she checked her wristwatch. "You're so early; it's barely eleven! Not that I'm complaining, of course. It's just… no one really wants to do this."

"Nah, it's alright," Kristoff said. "I just figured you might need some help is all. What can I do?"

"Wow… thank you. That's so nice," Anna replied. "But… well, I'm actually in pretty good shape. Dad's working on the rink right now, and all that's left for me to do is set up the sign-in area and bring out the jerseys."

"The jerseys?"

"Each kid gets their own personalized jersey," she explained. "Makes them feel like they're really part of the team for the day, you know? And it's a great souvenir."

"Gotcha. I mean, I don't have to suit up for a while, so if you need anything…"

"Well, I could use some help getting the table to the front entrance area, if you don't mind?"

Kristoff smiled. "Not at all."

"Thanks," Anna breathed. "I owe you one."

"Anna," Kristoff laughed as they walked toward the storage room, "stop saying you owe me things. Although…"

"Yeah?"

"There is one thing you could do for me."

"What's that?"

Anna gasped when Kristoff stopped her abruptly, taking a large stride so he could stand in front of her. She swallowed deeply as he settled a hand on her lower back while using the other to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The pressure on her back was subdued, yet forceful enough to make her lean into him, close enough to feel his breath ghost across her lips as he spoke.

"How about a kiss?"

She was taken aback for a moment and almost said no; they were both at work and her dad, while preoccupied, wasn't very far away. On top of that, she had the event to finish preparing for. Kissing him in the corridor beneath the stands seemed unprofessional despite the fact that they'd been sort-of seeing one another.

But then Anna remembered the purple lace she was wearing beneath her clothes, realizing she'd probably subconsciously selected to wear it that particular day because she knew she would be seeing Kristoff. And there he was standing before her, all tall and handsome and rugged, towering over her petite frame. It should have been intimidating, but to the contrary, Anna found his presence alluring, his touch electrifying, and his gaze so arousing that just for a moment, she wanted more than an embrace, more than a kiss, more than innocence. It surprised her that she wanted it so much in that split second, as she'd never particularly enjoyed sex and therefore never had much of a desire for it, and it terrified her that she may have actually done it right then and there had it not been for her better judgement. If she were to ever sleep with Kristoff, Anna wanted it to be… well, it didn't matter, but she certainly didn't want it to be in a dark corridor at work. At least not for the first time.

She settled for the kiss, grinning as she pressed her mouth to his, her body succumbing to the security and yearning offered by his gentle hold. Anna relaxed in his arms as their lips and tongues tangled in the familiar cadence of affection. The caress wasn't anything out of the ordinary, yet something about it felt remarkably different. Perhaps it was the lingerie. Maybe it was the fact that her dad could step into the corridor at any moment and catch them in the act. Whatever it was, something about that kiss made it feel like it was the most intense they'd ever shared. Because of this, Anna was breathless when they broke apart, and warmth – a warmth she only ever felt when she was alone and allowed her mind to wander to forbidden places – began to burn between her thighs. Kristoff, too, appeared enamored with the kiss, as his eyes were hazy and hooded.

"Whoa," he murmured breathily. Kristoff dragged his thumb slowly across her bottom lip, like he was contemplating diving in for more. Were it not for the sound in the distance of the Zamboni powering down, she would have likely allowed it.

"Um," she stammered, "we… um, I mean,_ I_… I have to get back to… you know, the set up. Setting up, I mean. For the sign in area. The kids'll be here soon, so…"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, totally," Kristoff agreed, clearing his throat and brushing a hand through his hair as he straightened up. "I, uh… I'll help."

"Thanks. Cool. Um," Anna smoothed over the front of her blouse before pointing down the corridor. "It's this way."

They proceeded to the one of the storage rooms without speaking, and while Anna wouldn't go so far as to say the silence was uncomfortable, it was without a doubt filled with tension. The sexual kind. She was a healthy, fit, twenty-two-year-old woman, so what other explanation could there be for her shortness of breath and muscle weakness? It most certainly was not the very brief walk to the storage room, nor was it from lifting the table; it was rather light, especially considering she had help. That said, it was the help himself that was causing her symptoms. Each time Kristoff's eyes met hers, they stared deeply at her, melting her retinas before darting away in haste. This was occasionally accompanied by a deep breath or throat clearing.

He was certainly clearing his throat a lot that day, Anna noticed.

Once they were in the exhibition hall, they set up the table. Kristoff fetched a couple of chairs while Anna threw a yellow tablecloth on it.

"Thanks," Anna declared. "You know… for helping. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Anytime. Is there anything else you need?"

Anna shook her head. "I just need to get the sign-in materials from my office. Other than that, though, everything is ready. Dad's taking care of the rink, so… yeah."

"Alright," Kristoff said. He glanced above her head for just a moment, presumably at the clock. "I, uh… I should probably go suit up. It's nearly that time."

"Right. Okay, well… I guess I'll see you down there?"

"Yeah, definitely. See you."

"Thanks again."

"It was no trouble. Really."

"Not just for helping with the table," she added, "but… well, for being here. It's going to mean a lot to the kids. And... it means a lot to me, too."

Kristoff smiled. "Anything for you."

On instinct and with that last kiss fresh in her mind, Anna began to lean in slowly, unable to tear her gaze from his lips. He followed suit, lifting his hands to place them on her shoulders. She could feel his breath, inhale his exhilarating scent, sense her own stirring coming back…

And then, just as their lips were about to touch, they pulled away, for the familiar sound of the door to the corridor echoed within the hall. Adgar stepped in with an oblivious smile on his face.

"The rink is ready to go," he delivered cheerfully. "Goals are set up, and the pucks and stick rack are near the entryway. Ah, Kristoff! Good afternoon!"

"Good afternoon, Adgar. Mr. Arendelle. I mean, Sir," Kristoff corrected, a faint blush appearing on his face. If Anna was reading him correctly, there appeared to be a hint of guilt in his eyes, too.

"Kristoff, Adgar is perfectly fine. We've been over this!" Adgar chortled.

"Kristoff was just helping me finish setting up," Anna chimed in for his rescue. "He got here a little early and volunteered to help me carry up a few more supplies."

"Excellent! So, we're all ready to go, then?"

"All I need now is the stuff from my office."

"And I need to go suit up," Kristoff added.

"My, is that the time?" Adgar exclaimed, glancing at his watch. "And I thought Pavalov was too early! I just saw him heading into the locker room."

"Well then, that's my cue to head out," Kristoff said, nodding to Anna. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, and thank you again!"

"That was nice of him," Adgar commented after Kristoff was out of the hall.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was."

"Are you sure there's nothing else you need?"

"Dad, I promise, everything's good to go," Anna assured him.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "I trust you. And you're still planning on coming tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it! Why would you even ask?"

"No reason. Just making sure. Alright, I'll leave you alone to get settled. Please, just let me know if you need anything."

"I promise I will. See you in the stands?"

"You bet!"

As she walked to her office, Anna deliberately took the long way so she could walk past the locker room. She could hear Kristoff's voice from within, presumably talking to Troy Pavalov. It sounded like Andre Lukska had arrived, too; it was difficult to mistake his thick accent. All Anna could think about, though, was that Kristoff Bjorgman was only twenty feet away from her and probably naked, or at least close to it.

Face flushing, she smoothed over her hair and proceeded to her office to fetch some last-minute items.

* * *

The majority of the day was a blur. Anna vaguely remembered signing twenty excited children, distributing jerseys, and giving her short introductory presentation to begin the festivities. She then led the kids to the rink, where they were greeted by Kristoff Bjorgman, Troy Pavalov, Andre Lukska, and Darren Mattuese. Anna sat in the stands with her father while the players took over. After a quick question and answer session, the children were split into two groups on either side of the rink; Lukska and Pavalov took the kids who played defense, while Bjorgman and Mattuese took the offensive players for more specific training and tips. Then they all regrouped, only to be split into a blue team and a red team for a fun, informal scrimmage game. It was during this time Anna ducked out temporarily to retrieve the catering delivery.

Upon her return, the game was over, and the kids and players were just socializing while shooting and passing pucks, almost like the real team did before each game. She sat beside her father again and watched happily. Of course, she couldn't help but notice Kristoff, who was patiently assisting one of the girls with her wrist shot. A couple of the boys joined in on the mini-lesson, too, and Kristoff was more than happy to help each of them. Anna smiled, her heart melting; it was such a sweet sight.

"This has certainly been a success," her father said after a while. "Well done, Anna."

"Thanks," she said, blushing, "but it wasn't just me. It was the whole department."

"That's true, but I know you were the brains behind the whole thing. Don't be modest," he added quickly when she was about to retort. "I mean, just look at it. The kids are having a blast and learning a ton. And who knows? A few of our future players could be out there!"

Anna laughed. "Yeah. Our current ones aren't too shabby, though." The team had climbed to second place in the division and third in the conference, and they didn't appear to be slowing down anytime soon. It was a solid position to be in mid-January. "Too bad the playoffs aren't starting now!"

"That would be nice, but we're still three months out. Can't get too cocky yet! Though, that trade deadline is coming up soon."

"So?" Anna asked. "What's that got to do with us?"

"Perhaps nothing."

"_Perhaps?_" Anna asked slowly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, really," Adgar said with a shrug. "Just some teams interested in certain players, that's all. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"What teams?"

"The Rangers, mostly."

"Oh," Anna murmured. "Who do they want?"

"Well, Mateev, of course."

"Um… no," Anna laughed. "Fat chance of that!"

"No kidding!"

"Anyone else?"

"Just the usual suspects," Adgar answered. "Langlois, Wyatt, Bjorgman…"

"Bjorgman?" Anna gasped before she could stop herself. Her stomach sunk at the thought of losing the one person she was allowing herself to get close to. It had only been two months, for goodness sake! And the thought that he could be traded to New York…

_New York._

Anna wanted to vomit. There was no way Hans had a hand in this, was there? He had little say in what happened with the Rangers, but he was, as she'd discovered in the worst way, a master of manipulation. Was he somehow convincing Mr. Westergaard to make a push for Kristoff? And how did Hans even find out about her and Kristoff, anyway? Even her own parents didn't know!

Old habit forced her to look over her shoulder, a small amount of relief coming to her when all she saw was a sea of empty seats.

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason," Anna lied. "How… um, how long as this been going on? New York pushing for Bjor… I mean, our players?"

"Oh, since the beginning of the season," Adgar said nonchalantly.

"Oh." She'd had no connection to Kristoff that early, so it couldn't have been Hans.

"You seem relieved."

"Do I?" Anna asked, voice raising in pitch. She brought a hand to her hair.

"Yes, and I think I know why."

"You… you do?" Her heart skipped a beat. Did her father know about her and Kristoff? Was he going to tell her it was forbidden? Was he going to send Kristoff to the Rangers as a punishment for messing around with his baby girl?

"Of course," her dad laughed. "You've been traveling with the team for a couple of months now. Surely a few of the players have become your friends."

_Phew!_ she thought.

"Yeah," Anna sighed. "Most of them are really nice."

"I agree. But sadly, teams change. It's just part of the business."

"Are you… um, are you considering trading anyone?" she asked, hoping she sounded discreet and casual.

"No one in particular," Adgar said. "Why? Is there anyone you think we'd be foolish to trade?"

"Well, Mateev, for starters."

"No worries there!"

"I think Pavalov is very valuable. Lots of potential there. Same with Bjorgman. I'd keep those two, definitely. Langlois… well, he's excellent, of course, but…"

"He's a bit of an ass?" her father finished for her with a smirk.

"Well… yes," Anna giggled. "Just a little."

All too soon, the time for the kids and the players to leave the ice arrived. They, along with Anna and Adgar, retreated to the exhibition hall, where a late lunch, along with the parents of the children, was awaiting them. Anna had ordered a bunch of finger foods from a local diner as well as a sheet cake from Charley's bakery. Over mini sliders, kebabs, onion rings, and the like, the enthusiastic young hockey players were granted more time to chat with their idols about the game. After cake, Anna snapped pictures that she would later develop and send to each child, and each participant got a puck signed before they went home.

"Do you need any help before I get going?" Adgar asked Anna as the last of the kids and their families were filing out. "I hate to leave you, but I've got to pick a few things up before dinner, and the florist closes soon."

"Dad, I've got it. Promise," Anna assured him. "And if I don't get the decorations down tonight, it's no big deal; it's not like the hall's being used within the next couple of days. I'll see you at the restaurant, okay?"

"Alright. I love you. See you tonight."

"Love you, too." As Adgar left, Anna turned to the players. "Gentlemen," she announced with a smile, "I just want to once again express my gratitude to you all. I know it wasn't favorable to give up a free Saturday, but as you could obviously tell, you all made a group of young hockey players extremely happy. They certainly learned a lot from you, and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you so very much for affording them that opportunity."

"You're just like your dad," Troy joked. "Such a sap! But you're welcome. It was no trouble, really."

"Agreed," said Darren Mattuese. "Had a lot of fun today!"

Kristoff and Andre murmured and nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'm sure you're all eager to return to your families. Again, thank you for volunteering your time. I'll see you all on the bus to Buffalo on Monday!"

Anna turned her attention to the sign-in table and began mindlessly stacking up papers when she felt a small touch on her shoulder. She shrieked and jumped, head spinning toward the source.

"Sorry!" Kristoff exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," Anna murmured, still trying to catch her breath and quell her amped-up heartbeat. "I thought you left, that's all."

"Well, everyone else did. I just figured you might like some help cleaning up?"

"Oh!" Anna blurted with a nervous laugh. "Th-thank you. But I should be okay. I'm only going to wrap up the leftovers and bring all this stuff up to the office. Maintenance will take care of the rink, and the decorations can wait."

"Ah."

"So… yeah. I mean, I appreciate it, but you've devoted enough time already. Go take a shower and get out of here! I'm sure you can't wait to get home."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Are you saying I smell?"

"No! No, not at all! I mean, yes, of course you smell… but not in a bad way!" she added on hastily. "Everyone smells, but not all smells are bad, you know? You just smell like you've been exercising, which you have, and… yeah. It's not a bad smell…"

"So you're saying I smell _good_?"

"Yes… no… I don't know!" Anna laughed. "You smell like _you_, okay?"

"Well, good or bad," Kristoff chuckled, placing his hands on either side of her face, "I still plan on kissing you. That alright?"

Anna swallowed hard, instinctively leaning in to his touch. "Y-yeah. Yeah, that'd be good. I mean, yes, please. I-"

Kristoff stole her next words with a kiss, turning whatever nonsense that was about to come out of her mouth into a content and blissful sigh. He groaned against her lips when she pulled him close and traced his tongue with her own.

"Hm," he exhaled, a goofy smile on his face. "You know, I felt a bit robbed earlier, but it was well worth the wait, don't you think?"

"Mhm."

"Don't think I'll ever get tired of this."

"Me neither," Anna hummed.

"So, are you sure you don't need any help here?"

"Nah, I'm good. Promise."

"Alright," Kristoff conceded. "I take it you're in a bit of a hurry to get out of here."

"Yeah," Anna laughed. "Even I can take so much of this place."

"Got a hot date tonight?" he asked cheekily.

Anna rolled her eyes and giggled. "No, I don't have a _hot date_."

"Would you like one?"

"Hm?"

"Well, I was thinking," Kristoff said, loosening his hold on her body so he could properly look at her, "mozzarella sticks and whatnot were great for the little ones, but big kids like us need a bit more sustenance. Do you feel like going out for dinner? Or, if you don't want to go out, you can come to my place and I can make us something? I'm actually not a bad cook, and it would be great for you to finally meet Sven."

"Oh, um…" Anna's words stalled, knowing that what she wanted to say would not be prudent. Of course she wanted to have dinner with him. He was even offering to _cook_ for her; no man had ever done that before, especially not after just spending several hours of his free time teaching hockey to children. Who wouldn't agree to such a sweet and generous offer? However, Anna knew she had to decline.

"Kristoff… that's so kind of you," Anna uttered. "I would love to, really, but… I'm so sorry. I can't."

"Oh," Kristoff said. She could hear the disappointment in his voice.

Her immediate instinct was to call her father and tell her she couldn't make it, and Anna hated that. It was yet another enduring fragment of the damage Hans had inflicted upon her. Though he'd never outright told her to do so, there had always been the expectation that she would cancel any prior commitments in the event that he suggested impromptu plans. She'd missed out on so many family dinners and gatherings because of it, and she knew should couldn't do that anymore.

Yet at the same time, she didn't want to displease Kristoff.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "It's my mom's birthday on Monday, so we're all going out to her favorite restaurant tonight to celebrate. It's been planned for a while, and… yeah. I'm so sorry, Kristoff."

"Hey, hey," he soothed, pulling her close; Anna hadn't realized she'd begun shaking. "Anna, it's okay. It was a last-minute idea. We can have dinner any old night, but birthdays are only once a year. It's your family. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"You… you aren't upset?"

"Of course not!" he scoffed, following up with a kiss on the forehead. "How about tomorrow? Are you free for lunch?"

Anna smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"And… maybe some hockey after? We've got to work on passing."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Alright, cool," Kristoff said. "I really should get to the shower, though. In spite of what you claim, I'm sure I smell atrocious."

Anna giggled. "Maybe just a little."

"Thanks," he chortled. "Can I still get one more kiss, though? For the road?"

They both grinned as they leaned forward, locking their lips once more in a sensuous cavort of hunger and fervor, not unlike the way they'd kissed earlier in the corridor. What made this kiss so unique, though, was the way they held one another. Anna noticed it right away. In previous encounters, their embraces were always innocent: his hands on her waist, perhaps, and hers on his shoulders. This time, their bodies pressed together in ways that they never had before. Their chests touched, as did their waists and hips, thus heightening their breaths, intensifying their greedy tongues.

When they pulled apart a couple of minutes later, both Kristoff and Anna both had glazed eyes, tousled hair, and an inability to tear their bodies away from one another.

"Kristoff…" Anna began, but words failed her, for she was too consumed with want, an urge unlike any she'd ever felt before, concurrently terrifying and exciting.

"Anna… you make me crazy," he rasped, glancing at her lips again before staring into her eyes. She knew what he meant because she felt it, too. She just wasn't sure if she was entirely ready for it. Fortunately for her, Kristoff continued. "I… uh… I'd better go. You, uh… well, you have somewhere to be."

"Y-yeah," Anna agreed, clearing her throat. "Are we still good for tomorrow?"

"Of course. Have fun tonight, okay?"

"I will, thanks."

"Text me tonight?"

"Yeah. Promise."

* * *

It was nearly eleven when Anna finally got home. It had been a long, eventful day, however fun and enjoyable, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd longed so desperately for her bed. She kicked off her shoes the second she was home without bothering to tuck them away, had a cup of herbal tea, then proceeded to her bedroom to change.

After fetching her favorite pajamas from her bureau, she stripped off the dress she'd worn to dinner, smiling upon realizing it was the same dress she'd worn on her first date with Kristoff. It pooled around her ankles and she kicked it to the side, leaving her in nothing but her amethyst lingerie. She caught sight of herself in the full length mirror, and in her state of exhaustion, she couldn't help blushing; she looked damn sexy in it. Maybe it was because she was tired or perhaps it was because of her newfound confidence, but Anna decided to skip out on the pajamas that night. Instead, she slithered beneath the blankets in nothing but her naughty undies.

Her thoughts trailed to Kristoff almost instantly and, despite her fatigue, they kept her awake for quite a while. Specifically, the thought of earlier that day when she left the arena. She'd deliberately taken the long way so she could pass the locker room, and she'd hovered outside the entryway to listen to the sound of a running shower. It had to have been Kristoff, as the other three had likely already gone home. Anna had stood outside the room for several minutes, imagining what Kristoff's naked body looked like beneath that stream of water.

And that, coupled with the way she'd felt after kissing him…

Before she knew it, her hands were on her clothed breasts, pushing their way beneath the purple cups to massage her skin, to roll her nipples between her fingers. She eventually just popped her bra off before moving her hands to her lacy knickers. As she fingered the hem, knowing full well she didn't need her touch to test if she was wet underneath them, she looked toward her nightstand. Anna knew she needed sleep, but it had been quite a while since she'd utilized the pink toy residing within its lone drawer.

_Kristoff in the shower…_ she thought. _Kristoff kissing me… Kristoff pressing his body against mine_…

Anna, with a core burning hotter than ever before, removed the toy from the drawer and pressed the button. It began to vibrate in her hand and she guiltily pressed it to her core, gasping before remembering that she had no reason to feel guilty. She was allowed to desire pleasure, allowed to fantasize, allowed to _feel_.

She moaned as she envisioned an alternate scenario of that afternoon. Anna imagined herself walking into that locker room toward the sound of water, dragging open the curtain, and being greeted with the sight of a nude Kristoff. She would see his backside first: chiseled shoulders, firm bottom, and large thighs and calves from years of skating. He would turn around at the sound of the shower curtain rings sliding across the metal pole. His chest would be covered in hair (as Kristoff wouldn't be the type to wax, she assumed), his manhood would be ready as he'd already been thinking about their kiss and her body, and his mouth would be curved into a smile because he would've been wanting this just as much as she did.

Anna pressed the toy more firmly against her core, against the special spot that never failed to bring her euphoria, and she pictured herself stripping down before him without a shred of embarrassment. Kristoff would pull her naked body into the stall to join his own and he would kiss her, _hard_, before allowing a hand and to massage each and every erogenous zone on her tiny body. Then, she would gasp as he lifted her against the shower wall, slipping into her with a growl and fucking her in the way she deserved to be fucked: _passionately._

Kristoff would fuck her in that shower in a way that took her needs into account, using his hand if necessary to give her bliss, because she _deserved_ it. He would tell her how beautiful and sexy she looked with her hair wet and her body quaking, because she _deserved_ to be deemed as such. He would wait until she was satiated to overflow her with his own pleasure while gasping her name, because she _deserved_ to be just as fulfilled and satisfied by the act as he would be.

Anna replayed this scenario in her head over and over: Kristoff's beautiful nude body, his bits and soul repeatedly penetrating hers, his hand on her core, his mouth on hers, her name on his lips as he emptied himself within her, _his_ name on _he_r lips as she finally finished due to the actions of another…

"Kristoff! Kristoff! Mm!" she breathily gasped as she felt herself come undone, her body involuntarily thrusting against the quivering vibrator. She felt the fire in her core escalate to an inferno, her canal flooding as she came down from her high.

She lay there for several moments after, eventually getting up to dress in her pajamas and slipping back into bed just as quickly. Was it wrong, she wondered, to want and need so deeply from another person? Anna was sure Kristoff felt the same; in fact, she was quite sure she'd accidentally felt his want earlier that day. In a sense, her guilt stemmed from never having such a strong, unrelenting desire for sex, even with the man she'd been with for two years, the man she'd once agreed to pledge her life to.

_But he never gave two shits about you, remember?_ Anna reminded herself. _It's no wonder you never cared for sleeping with him. He didn't take care of you. He never took the time to concern himself about your needs. Kristoff would. At least, I think he would. Wouldn't he?_

Anna imagined Kristoff would. She liked to think he'd be a generous and fair lover, and she certainly liked to think he know how to please a woman, or at least be willing to learn if he didn't already. He obviously knew how to do so outside of the bedroom; why would he be any different within?

Still, it scared Anna how much she wanted it, wanted _him_. It scared her how much she trusted him, how much she was willing to invest in this relationship despite knowing how much a man could destroy one's heart and morale. Risk-taking was so unlike her, and so was trust as of late. It frightened her that Kristoff, a man she'd only gotten to know over the past couple of months, was having such a profound effect on her. But perhaps it was a good thing, she decided. She'd spent so much of her life being cautious, reserved, and putting others first. Maybe a change of heart was good. It was a new year, after all, and maybe Anna was due for a new and improved version of herself: one who knew what she wanted and would not accept any less, and one who was willing to allow herself to feel good, to feel worthy of love.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay! I took a short break from this story to write a one-shot called _Night Moves_, simply because I needed to write some full-blown smut. The one-shot can only be found on my Tumblr page, so if you want to check it out, that's where you'll find it! It's under the tab labeled "The Desk". :) (I'm ReillyJade over on Tumblr, too, in case you were wondering.)

Where's the full-blown smut in this story, you ask? Very, _very_ soon. There's one more hurdle these two lovebirds need to get through, but we're nearly there. All I'll say it's within the next five chapters, but I wont tell you which one. Also, I'm predicting a few shorter-ish chapters in the future, for reasons. At least they'll take less time for me to write, right? :p

Thanks for reading, and thank you for your patience! Love you all! :)


	18. Turn, Turn, Turn

**Chapter 18: **_**Turn, Turn, Turn**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

"When the morning breaks, we go our separate ways," Kristoff bellowed while drumming his hands against the steering wheel. "If the night was made for love, it ain't for keeps!"

Sven, who'd been napping in the back seat, nudged his right shoulder with his nose at the moment and huffed.

"Alright back there, buddy?" Kristoff asked, lowering the volume on his radio.

"_You are a terrible singer_," he mumbled on Sven's behalf.

"Yeah, yeah. I'd love to see you do better!"

"_Are we there yet?"_

"Just about!"

As Kristoff's car passed the small sign on the side of the highway reading _Lincoln Town Line_, he knew they were about twenty minutes away from Franconia, twenty minutes from home, twenty minutes from a weeklong vacation. He loved what he did for a living, but the fact remained that city life simply wasn't for him. After months of traffic, lights, and smog, Kristoff needed New Hampshire. He needed his trees, his fresh air, his lakes, and, most of all, his mountains. He needed to_ breathe_, and although he wasn't quite in Franconia yet, he was already at peace simply from knowing the little town was within his reach. He wasn't going to miss Boston one bit.

He would, however, miss the girl he'd been spending all of his time there with. Kristoff would have asked Anna to join him on his voyage home, but the Arendelles were spending the majority of the All-Star Break in Arizona on a trip that was half for business, half for pleasure; the All-Star Game and additional events were being held in Phoenix, and as a couple of their players were participating, it was imperative that they attended. Kristoff viewed the upcoming week apart as a good thing, though. Not only did he fear scaring Anna by inviting her on the trip had she been available, but as much as he liked her, Kristoff needed his alone time. He needed a week with just him, Sven, and occasionally Brenda and Cliff.

Kristoff smiled as he veered toward the exit, slowing down his car's acceleration even though all he wanted to do was go faster. Before long, the familiar sights of his hometown came into view: the town hall, the library, the diner, the fire station, the post office, the school, the tavern. He wanted to go straight home, but he made a quick stop at the market to pick up some essentials, flowers, and beer. Once back in the car, he proceeded along the familiar route to his home, the buildings becoming more infrequent the further he drove from the town center.

Finally, he turned onto his sparsely populated street. English Range Road, while geographically in the middle of the town, was really at the edge of it because roughly half of Franconia's land was covered by mountains. When Kristoff decided to buy a home last year, he'd specifically sought that street for the views and privacy it offered. While he wasn't making millions of dollars every year like athletes in other sports were, his salary was nothing to scoff at, and he'd been able to afford something nice. He'd contemplated buying near Boston, but he knew he wasn't going to be there forever; once he retired, the only place he wanted to be was in the mountains.

He turned into his driveway, which was lined with spruce trees to conceal the property from passersby. His house came into view a few moments later. It was two-story home (three if you counted the finished basement, and four if you counted the attic that he'd transformed into another room) situated on three acres of rolling hills. There were two decks in the back: a larger one for gatherings, and a smaller, more private one that could only be accessed from the master bedroom. Both served the purpose of prime seating for his house's magnificent backdrop: the White Mountains. Only a couple miles of woods separated his backyard from Mount Lafayette, a favorite of his for hiking, and Cannon Mountain. Mount Lincoln could be seen to the right, and on a clear day, he could even see Mount Washington, the majesty of the range, in the distance.

Kristoff knew he wasn't going to be staying long; though he'd never been explicitly told, he knew full well that Brenda was expecting him for lunch. As such, he didn't even bother pulling into the two-car garage. He quickly brought his groceries and suitcase into the house, ensuring at least a few of the beers were in the refrigerator, before hoping right back into his car. He checked the clock on his dash, happy to see that it was only eleven-thirty. Brenda typically didn't have lunch until one, and that left him plenty of time.

His destination was quiet and deserted, not surprising for a chilly weekday at the end of January. The only sounds were the crunching of the thin layer of snow beneath his feet and Sven's paws, as well as the barely-there breeze teasing the pine branches above. Then, of course, there was the subtle crushing of the cellophane in his hand as his fist clenched. It didn't matter how many years had gone by; the initial sight of the polished rock always felt like a punch to the gut.

"Hey, Mom," Kristoff greeted as he stood before it. "How are you?"

June would mark seventeen years since he lost her. Sometimes, it felt like it was merely a month ago, like everything since then – from the Fischers to the Thompsons to Marissa to becoming a Bruin – had passed by in a meaningless blur. Other times, it felt like a lifetime since Petra Bjorgman had lost her battle with lymphoma, and Kristoff worried he would barely remember her were it not for the few photographs he possessed. Even if he didn't have the pictures, though, some things about her would stay with him forever; that he was sure of. His mother had had an infectious laugh that frequently surfaced, for she had been an optimist and lover of life. She'd baked the most magnificent chocolate chip cookies, and even after all that time, Kristoff could not even come close to finding a treat as decadent. She'd loved to dance, to sing, to knit, to run, and to draw, and she'd loved Kristoff with all her heart.

Kristoff laid the bouquet of flowers (lilies – her favorite) at the foot of the headstone as he lowered himself to sit before it. Sven sat beside him, head bowed; it was one of those times Kristoff could've sworn his furry companion was human, for he seemed to truly understand.

"Sorry it's been a while since I visited," he said. "Like, really visited, I mean. I know I was here on Christmas, but I couldn't stay for too long, and… yeah. Anyway, I have a bit of time today, so I thought we could catch up."

He spent nearly twenty minutes updating his mom on the things that were going on in his life. He talked a lot about the team, beaming proudly as he proclaimed they'd climbed to first in their division due to their latest win. He told her about some recipes he'd recently experimented with and what he planned to spend the All-Star Break doing. He avoided talking about Anna until the very end for no reason other than he wanted to save the best for last.

"So, Mom, you're not going to believe this, but… well, I've kind of been seeing someone," Kristoff admitted with a soft smile on his lips. He even blushed slightly; though she may have been gone for years, she was still his mom and he was talking about a girl. "We've spent a lot of time together over the past few months, and… yeah. I even danced with her at a Christmas party; aren't you proud of me? Anyway, her name is Anna. Anna Arendelle. Yes, she's Adgar's daughter. He doesn't know yet. No one does, really, so you have to promise to keep it a secret, okay? I just… well, she's really something, you know? I don't want to mess this up. She's funny, and smart, and kind, and… she's just incredible. And she's _so_ beautiful, Mom. I just wish you could meet her. I like her a lot, so I can only hope you would've liked her, too. And I really think you would have. I mean, I didn't like her so much when we first met – I thought she was a bit annoying, actually – but it's really tough not to like someone like her."

He knew he was alone, but he glanced over his shoulder out of habit just to be sure. Kristoff wasn't one to open up about such matters, and he was mortified by the mere thought of someone overhearing.

"Can I tell you something, Mom? I… I'm really scared," he confessed. "About Anna, I mean. I… I think this could actually go somewhere, and I'm not sure I want it to. Of course I _want_ it to," he corrected, "but… that's scary. I don't want another Marissa. I don't want that happen again. I know Anna's different and that alone makes me want to go for it. That's what worries me the most: I know how badly it can end up and how much I could get hurt, but I still think it's worth it. She means that much to me already. I think about her all the time, and when she's not around… I don't know what it is, but I feel lost. I mean, you know how much I like to be alone. Lately, though… it's different. Like, even on the drive up here, there were moments here and there when it felt like something was missing. Does that even make sense? I just… I don't know what this means, and I…"

Kristoff stopped for a moment to gather his words. He felt the familiar lump form in his throat as his most desperate yearning, a yearning he'd held since boyhood, crept into his mind. His eyes stung with the painful reminder that it would never come true no matter how much he prayed for it.

"I just wish you were here, Mom," he rasped, voice trembling. "I wish I could talk to you, _really_ talk to you. I'd give anything for your advice, or even just to hear your voice. I know all you ever wanted for me was to be happy, and it took some time, but I finally got there. I wish you could see it. I wish you could see me play, and see my house, and meet Sven and Anna. And you should've had that, too. It isn't fair."

He traced his fingers along the wrapping of the flowers he brought. The bouquet was tied with a purple ribbon.

"One day, I'll bring her here," he said. "I'll bring Anna here to meet you. She's in Phoenix right now with her family. Can you keep an eye on her for me, Mom? Can you make sure she's safe? I know that guy she used to date is there, too, and I don't want him to make her miserable. Trust me, he'll try, and she doesn't deserve that. She's been through a lot, too. Too much, actually. Just… just please make sure she's okay. And I'll be back soon, alright? I'm here for the week."

Kristoff gently rested his hand atop his mother's headstone, bowing his head and taking a deep, quivering breath. Sven whimpered beside him and affectionately nudged his side.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so much, and I miss you every day."

Kristoff departed the small cemetery, hands shoved deep in his pockets, while Sven trotted beside him. Though he didn't cry, his heart was heavy with sorrow as he ducked into his car. He was positive that feeling would accompany him upon his visits to the cemetery no matter how many years passed. In Kristoff's opinion, the age-old saying _time heals all wounds_ was complete malarkey; some losses were too profound, some pain too extensive. Sometimes healing wasn't an option, and the best one could do was cope.

The coping itself had grown easier as he had grown in age. When he was a kid, and particularly during the years he'd been with the Fischers, Kristoff spent many nights crying himself to sleep, and it was more often than was probably healthy. It got easier once he was placed in the Thompsons' care, as they'd loved him and given him stability, something he hadn't realized was what he'd been missing the most about his mother. Now, as an adult, he could finally think about her with a smile, though the melancholy was still there. The tearful nights were seldom, though they did strike without warning every once in a while.

Within minutes, Kristoff was turning onto the Thompsons' street, and was parking in their driveway thirty seconds later. Brenda and Cliff's home was a small, single story blue house with three bedrooms, situated on just over a half acre of land. The front had a porch, which was where he'd met them for the first time nearly twelve years before. He remembered it well: it was a clear night around nine in the evening when he'd been brought to them for an emergency placement. He was only supposed to stay there temporarily – a few weeks at most – but they'd elected to keep him in their care until he came of age. Kristoff could only smile at the juxtaposition: the fear he'd felt upon first seeing the house versus how it now made him feel warm, welcomed, and loved.

Kristoff knocked three times on the front door before letting himself in, as Brenda was likely in the kitchen or the basement.

"Hello?" he called as he stepped into the living room. "Brenda? Are you home?"

It was a ridiculous question. Of course she was home; her car was in the driveway.

"Kristoff? Is that you?" he heard her calling from the kitchen. Sure enough, she emerged two seconds later, beaming from ear to ear. "Kristoff! You're home!"

Brenda was a short, plump woman, and her head only came up to his lower chest when she pulled him in for a hug. Her short arms could barely fit around his torso, so she squeezed him so tightly that even with his broad build, her enthusiasm suffocated for a moment. Still, her returned the favor, nearly lifting Brenda off her feet. He couldn't help it; she was his second mother and he loved her dearly. Sven barked happily beside them, nuzzling Brenda's hip with his nose.

"Oh, it's been too long since I've seen you, my boy!" she chirped.

"I was just here a month ago for Christmas!"

"Exactly. Too long! Have you eaten since breakfast? Come have lunch," she ordered cheerfully before waiting for his response.

It was just as well; Kristoff knew his response would have been meaningless, anyway. He could have told her he'd just eaten a three course meal, but she would just scoffed and insisted that, at the very least, he take a plate for the road. Perhaps it was a maternal thing, but it seemed that it was Brenda's personal mission to stuff him with food every time he visited. She prided herself on her hospitality, and it was impossible for anyone to ever leave the Thompsons' house hungry.

Kristoff took his usual seat at the circular kitchen table while Brenda made her way back to the counter.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be stopping by," she said, "so I didn't cook anything. I hope you aren't upset."

"Of course I'm not upset," Kristoff assured her. "Brenda, you don't even have to make anything at all. I'm not expecting-"

"Hogwash!" Brenda interrupted. "Now, how many sandwiches would you like?"

"Just one," he said, but laughed when Brenda glared at him. "Fine, fine. Two. Thanks. Need any help?"

"No, no! You relax! You're on vacation! Any big plans for this week?"

As Brenda prepared lunch, Kristoff told her about how he planned to spend the All-Star Break doing a whole lot of nothing. If the weather cooperated, he thought he might go for a hike. He knew he'd hit the gym a few times, too, but he really just wanted to stay home and catch up on sleep, movies, and reading. It had been quite some time since he'd had the opportunity to enjoy a stretch of days with little responsibility or obligation; even in the summer, he had to attend training camps periodically.

"Thank you," Kristoff after a few minutes when Brenda placed a plate in front of him. He chortled when he looked down, feeling he should have known Brenda would make him one more sandwich than he'd asked for. He wasn't about to complain, as each one was made with fresh turkey and stacked high with all the trimmings – lettuce, tomatoes, pickles, and pepper jack cheese. And of course, it was all stuffed between slices of her homemade bread.

They chatted about everyday things as they both enjoyed their lunches. Brenda talked mostly about the family, informing him that her nephew, John, had finally proposed to his girlfriend and that Aunt Marnie's knee surgery had gone well. Kristoff, meanwhile, talked primarily about the team and their upcoming games. Eventually, Brenda fetched dessert for them both: chocolate fudge cake.

"So," Brenda asked as she sat across from him, "when do I get to hear about the lucky lady?"

"Hm?" Kristoff hummed, mouth already full. He washed it down with a large gulp of iced water. "Mm. Delicious. Thank you."

"You're most welcome."

"So, uh… what were you saying?" he asked casually. "Something about a lady?"

"No need to be shy!" Brenda chirped. "I'm just curious about who has been making my boy so cheery lately! You can't blame me for wondering."

"What makes you so sure it's a girl? Like I said, the team's been doing very well, and… well, I'm very happy about that, obviously."

"Yes, yes, but I doubt it was your teammates you were texting all day on Christmas," Brenda countered with an all-knowing smirk.

"I was _not_ on my phone all day."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"Am not!" Kristoff, however, knew this was a lie; he could feel the heat beneath his skin.

"Alright, alright," Brenda conceded, waving her hand with a smile. "Whatever – or whoever – is making you happy, though… well, I'm glad you have it. Or her. It's so lovely to see you smiling again."

Kristoff grinned and glanced down at the table for a moment. It wasn't that he was embarrassed or anything like that; in fact, he really wanted to tell Brenda, tell _everyone_, all about Anna. He was the happiest he'd been since ending things with Marissa over three years before, and he wanted to shout it out to the entire world. It didn't feel right, though, as he and Anna had not yet discussed going public with their relationship. It didn't seem fair to share their secret without her knowledge.

_But then again_, he thought, _her sister knows. Surely I can tell _one_ person, right? There's no harm in that._

"Her name's Anna," he confessed with a smile.

"Ooh, I knew it!" Brenda exclaimed, clapping her hands together with glee. Her dessert fork clattered against her plate. "I knew there had to be a reason you were so happy on Christmas! And even now… something about you is just brighter. You seem so much more at peace! How long has this been going on?!"

Kristoff chuckled. "A couple of months."

"Ooh, is it getting serious?" she asked hopefully.

"I… um, I think so? It's just been going really well, and… yeah. I like her a lot."

"How did you two meet?"

"Oh, uh… at work," Kristoff said. "She works for the team. She had to interview me for the seasonal program and… yeah, things just grew from there." Kristoff thought it best to leave out the bit about his initial dislike for her and her drunken escapade at Four's.

"Nothing like an office romance," she joked.

"Ha, yeah. She, uh… she's kind of Adgar's daughter."

Brenda's eyes widened. "As in the owner, Adgar? Your boss?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, my…"

"Yeah. So, uh… we're kind of keeping it quiet right now, for obvious reasons."

"Understood," Brenda said. "My lips are sealed. Can I tell Cliff, though?"

Kristoff smiled. "Of course."

"So… what's she like?"

"Well, she's bubbly," Kristoff said. "Very fun-loving and loves to laugh. Always up for an adventure. She's… she's just really easy to be with. There's no need for me to be anyone but me when I'm around her. And she's so easy to talk to. And… yeah. She's just fantastic."

Brenda beamed. "Is she pretty?"

"She's_ so_ pretty," Kristoff confirmed. "Here…" He took out his phone and opened up the photo Dimitri had taken on trivia night before sliding it over to Brenda. "It's a little blurry, but that's her in the middle."

Brenda looked at the picture, gasping and placing a hand over her heart. "Oh, look at the two of you! And is that the rest of the team?"

"Well, not the whole team, obviously," Kristoff chortled. He leaned over so he could point out everyone in the photo. "That's Dimitri, the captain. He plays forward. Troy's a defenseman, and Andre is our starting goaltender. And… me, of course. And that's Anna."

"Oh, Kristoff, she has such a beautiful smile!" Brenda exclaimed. "And look at you! So elated!"

"Yeah… yeah, it was a fun night." He recounted the tale of the trivia night, which bubbled over into talk about their hockey lessons, and that, in turn, led to Kristoff telling Brenda about all of their dates. Strangely, he couldn't seem to stop talking; it just felt so good to share the pure joy he'd been experiencing since he'd gotten close to Anna. He spoke of their first date, and all the others after. He told her about New York and the Christmas gala. He almost showed her the candid photograph he'd taken at the party – one of Anna in the beautiful emerald evening gown she'd worn that night – but elected not to; that one was too special and one he was rather selfish about.

Brenda clasped a hand over his and squeezed gently.

"I'm so happy for you, Kristoff," she said sincerely. "When do I get to meet her?"

Kristoff grinned. "Um… I'm not sure. Like I said, it's very quiet right now, and-"

"I understand."

"I really want you to, though," he added quickly. "I want to bring her up here. I… well, I really think you'll like her. Cliff will, too."

"I'm sure we'll love her just as much as you do."

"I think you… wait, _love_?" Kristoff nearly choked on his own breath as he gaped at Brenda. "Whoa, whoa, hold on. It's not… I mean, we aren't… I'm not there yet," he stammered. "It's only been a couple of months. That's a little too much too fast, don't you think?"

Brenda, however, just kept smiling. "Perhaps so," she surmised, "but then again, time is quite trivial when it comes to love. There's no such thing as _too soon_ or _too late_. It happens when it's meant to happen, and when it does, you'll know."

Kristoff spent the majority of the day with Brenda and hung around for a couple of hours after Cliff got home from work. It was around eight in the evening when he arrived back at his house. He immediately kicked off his shoes and fetched a beer from the fridge. He sighed contently when the cold brew touched his lips; it was the perfect temperature.

After getting a fire going in the hearth, he flopped down in one of the armchairs in the living room, lifting his feet to rest them lazily upon the ottoman. Sven, meanwhile, stretched out on the sofa across the room and quickly drifted into a nap. With the soothing sound of the crackling fire as background music, Kristoff, too, would have fallen asleep were his thoughts not yet again consumed the beautiful red-haired girl he'd been spending all his time with. Anna had said she would call him that evening once she was settled in, and he wasn't about to miss that on account of his droopy eyes.

Instead, he glanced around his living room, wondering if Anna would like it when, and if, he ever got the chance to bring her up there. Though Kristoff knew it was a desirable and gorgeous home, he worried that Anna would not deem it as such, and that she may not event like Franconia at all. She was a city girl, after all, and there was no telling whether she'd find his neck of the woods placid, as he did, or dreadfully dull. It was slightly unsettling to think she might not. Kristoff deeply care for Anna, but he also loved his town. He planned on coming back permanently once his hockey career was over, as he couldn't stay in the city forever. He wondered if Anna could do the same. If their relationship grew, if they maybe got married and had children, could she stand living in northern New Hampshire, far away from the hustle and bustle of Boston? Could _he_ possibly give up Franconia and the mountains for _her_? Kristoff wasn't so sure he could.

_Wait, stop!_ he thought. _Marriage? Kids? You're getting _wa_y ahead of yourself there, Bjorgman. Stop worrying so much. That's not happening for a long, long time, if ever. You know better. _

Yes, Kristoff did know better, and fully understood the danger and heartache of daring to want marriage and a family. Still, when it came to Anna, he couldn't deny that he did not completely hate the idea.

* * *

A week later, Kristoff was sitting in the airport terminal just outside of Gate 12. The All-Star Break had come to a close, and right off the bat, the team was on an away stretch. He, along with the rest of the team, was awaiting their flight to Chicago, where they'd have a one-hour layover before flying to Vancouver to start a string of games in Canada. There were still a few stragglers who hadn't arrived yet (or were still stuck in the security line), including Anna. He couldn't wait to see her.

His weeklong vacation in Franconia, while relaxing, had not been as satisfying as he'd been expecting. Much to his surprise, the solitude and quiet had not completely fulfilled Kristoff in the way it once did. Even when he climbed Mount Lafayette in the middle of the week, it had felt like something was missing or otherwise faulty. All of this had not occurred to him until he'd been on the drive back to Boston the day before; he'd started to go stir-crazy with the loneliness, and he figured he'd just been in the city for far too long and was no longer used to the silence.

He didn't figure it out until that day in the terminal. Kristoff was playing with his phone when he heard the sound of someone loudly plopping down into the leather seat across from him, followed by the thud of a suitcase on the ground.

"Hey."

Kristoff glanced up, and it took all of his willpower not to jump out of his seat and pull Anna into a hug. They were surrounded by members of the team, so all he could do was try to keep his smile as normal as possible. This was quite the difficult feat seeing as his heart was bursting with joy. Though it had only been a week, Kristoff felt like it had been forever since he'd seen her, perhaps since she looked so different: her freckles appeared more prominent than ever on her sun-kissed cheeks and her hair, while still brilliantly red, seemed to have been lightened.

"Hey!" he murmured. "How was Phoenix?"

"It was magnificent! The events were amazing and I got to interact with so many fans. The weather was great; it was definitely hard to come back here! I can't wait for summer. Anyway, the city was lovely. We had a couple of really nice dinners and I… Kristoff?"

Kristoff snapped out of his trance at the call of his name. He wasn't ignoring her on purpose. In fact, he actually had been listening to what she was saying, but he just wasn't truly hearing it. Kristoff couldn't focus on her words when he was too busy getting reacquainted with the melody of her voice, as phone calls did not do it justice. He was getting lost in her features, soaking in all of her beauty, because the two photographs on his phone hadn't been enough. He was just too wrapped up in how much better he'd begun to feel within the minute since she'd sat down.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," he sputtered. "Yeah, I… uh, I'm good. Sorry."

"What is it?" she further queried, a concerned frown on her face.

He offered her a reassuring smile. "It's nothing. Don't worry."

The statement was a lie, but Kristoff wasn't about to admit that. It wasn't nothing, but rather everything. Now that he was in Anna's presence again, he immediately detected why he'd felt so off during his break. Though he was awaiting a flight for an away stretch he wasn't looking forward to, he still felt better than he had in the comfort of his own New Hampshire home simply because she was there. She completed him. Anna was what had been missing during his week away, and it had been her absence that had made him so antsy and starved for companionship. It was beyond him just missing her; he _needed _her. It was like he was a puzzle, and she'd been the piece he'd needed to make him whole.

Kristoff knew that should have unsettled him, but if anything, a sense of relief washed over him. For the first time in a long time, he rejected his mind attempting to warn him of his previous pain and instead allowed the most wonderful, terrifying, and beautiful of emotions to take over. He was finally remembering what love felt like, and he was ecstatic to welcome back the memory… and possibly even relive it.

* * *

They spent their last night of the away stretch at a hotel in Montreal. The team had an early game against the Canadiens the following afternoon, and they would take a bus back to Boston immediately after. As usual, Kristoff had Anna snuggled against him in his room. Since New York, it had become a quiet agreement between them: if there was no team outing, Anna would go to Kristoff's room and they would order food and watch whatever was on television.

That night, the first Terminator movie happened to be on. Anna had never seen it, and seeing as it was one he really liked, Kristoff insisted that she give it a try. To his delight, she seemed to be quite invested in the movie. She kept asking questions about the characters and certain plot points, and he could feel her tense up during the action sequences. At one point, he even offered to switch to something else if she didn't care for it, but Anna just hushed him and kept her eyes glued to the screen.

It had been several years since Kristoff had seen Terminator, and he'd forgotten the movie contained a rather intense love scene. He was reminded of it the second Sarah kissed Kyle. It wasn't that the scene was a pointless grab for sex appeal, as it actually did serve a purpose, but it was graphic and somewhat lengthy when compared to similar scenes in other films. He could feel Anna stiffen within his hold and Kristoff felt awful; the last thing he'd wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. Perhaps it would have been different if they were already intimate, but as they'd already been feeling the tension (he had, at least), the movie was probably making it worse.

When the movie ended, Kristoff flipped off the television, as they usually didn't watch anything else after a movie. If Anna lingered, they typically just talked for a while before she bade him good night and returned to her own room.

"How did you like it?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"The movie?"

"Oh!" she laughed. "I actually really enjoyed it. It was interesting. And you know I'm not big on sci-fi."

"There's a sequel, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Kristoff said. "There's a few sequels, actually, but the first one's really the only one worth watching. Most people like it better than the original movie, actually."

"Which do you like better?"

"I'm one of the rare ones who actually likes the first movie better," he confessed, "but I still like the sequel! It's really well done."

"Maybe we can watch that one sometime, too."

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be cool."

They fell into a quaint silence for several minutes. This happened a lot when they were alone together. Anna snuggled in closer to him and rested her head upon his chest. He tightened his embrace, softly dragging his hands up and down her arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Then, all of a sudden, Anna blurted out, "have you ever had sex?"

Kristoff drew in a sharp breath, caught off guard by her question. Surely, he'd misunderstood. There's no way Anna – sweet, polite, innocent Anna – would have asked that. But then, in typical Anna fashion, word vomit began to spew from her mouth as she attempted to back out of it, confirming that he'd indeed heard her correctly.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "That… that was such a personal… such a private… never mind. And anyway, of course you have… oh, my god, what is wrong with me?! I'm so sorry, Kristoff! I didn't mean to assume… or insinuate… it's just, well, you're an athlete and… and athletes… you're just so handsome, so surely… gosh, I'm just so sorry. Please, just ignore me. I-"

"Anna," he chuckled, "it's okay. Please don't freak out."

"It's… it's none of my business…"

He quickly kissed her not only to stop her from saying anymore, but to assure he that he most definitely was not upset with her. It was, he decided, a reasonable enough question, and eventually they would need to know such things about each other.

"So… um… have you?" she asked again after a couple of minutes. When he grinned at her, she rolled her eyes and giggled. "I'm sorry! I know it's not my concern, but I want to know. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm curious."

"Yes," he answered without a hint of embarrassment. She'd already assumed he had, anyway. "Have you? Fair is fair."

Anna nodded, cheeks turning pink. "Y-yeah. Once. I mean, not _once._ Lots of times. I mean, not _lots _of times … you know, the regular amount of times, just with… um, one person."

"Gotcha."

They didn't say anything after that. Kristoff expected Anna to make an excuse to leave, but she stayed put in his arms. In fact, she seemed to be trying to get closer to him. She began to mimic his motions by rubbing the part of his waist where her hand rested, and shifted her body so her face was close to his. Kristoff glanced down at her and immediately noticed the difference in her eyes. Though still tender and loving as they always were, there appeared to now be a want there, as well as a question that begged for his response, his agreement. Just to be sure, he dragged his thumb against her bottom lip, to which she replied with a soft, barely-there kiss. She leaned into his touch when he moved his hand to her head to pull her in.

Their kiss intensified far quicker than it ever had before. Lips frolicked and tongues prodded as Anna began to lean back against the mattress, pulling Kristoff gently down with her. Not wanting to suffocate her, Kristoff adjusted his body so he was lying alongside her while still hovering his torso above hers. This was a favorable position in his current state; if he was any closer, he would not have been able to hide his pressing arousal. Anna, however, moved so she was parallel to him and pressed her body to his, moaning softly as she did so. Surely she could feel him, and the fact that she wasn't slowing down made Kristoff wonder if that's what she'd wanted all along.

And, sweet heavens above, it certainly was what _he'd_ wanted all along. He'd never planned on admitting how much he'd longed for her body, how much he'd craved for his skin to touch hers, but if he actually had a chance to fulfill those wants, he was prepared to tell her every last impure though he'd had about her.

He bravely moved his hand to her hip, wanting to slip it further around the back but not daring to. Kristoff had lost count of how many times he'd dreamt of touching her ass, of squeezing it, of _spanking_ it, and the fact that he was so close to doing so made him dizzy with desire. Anna, meanwhile, had brought her hands to his chest and was sliding them up and down the front of his shirt. Each time she moved downward, she dipped closer to the hem of it; he almost opted to discard the garment for her, but that would mean sacrificing her kiss and touch for three seconds.

Kristoff dragged his hand up the side of her body from her hip to her waist, and from her waist to the side of her breast. He took her impatient moan as a sign that it was okay for him to touch. He instinctively groaned when his hand cupped her clothed mound, the perfect fit for his hand. Kristoff offered her a few gentle squeezes before sliding his hand slowly down toward her tummy, toward them hem of her shirt. He gently fingered it as if to request permission. Anna pulled her lips from him in that moment, and Kristoff listened closely for the words granting him access to every inch of her gorgeous body, but they never came. It was then Kristoff realized that Anna had withdrawn her hands, too.

"Anna?" he rasped. "Is everything okay?"

"I…"

Then he saw it: panic. The lust and love that had resided in her beautiful azure eyes just a few short minutes ago had been replaced by fear, doubt, and shame. He blamed himself for that. He should have asked permission for everything he did, especially considering her history. In an effort to comfort her, he reached for her hand and was about to tell her that everything was okay, that they could slow down, that they didn't even have to do anything at all, but she was already sitting up.

"I… I'm sorry, Kristoff," she whimpered. She adjusted her shirt, which had ridden up sometime during the encounter. "I… I can't do this. I'm sorry. I just… I'm sorry."

Anna got up abruptly, aiming for the door. She kept her head low and refused to look at him.

"Anna, wait, _please_," he pleaded. "Don't go. We don't…"

But she was already opening the door and stepping out into the fluorescent hallway. Kristoff's stomach churned as the door fell shut, the sound of Anna softly crying pouring into his room.

* * *

**Author's Note:** That was meant to end much more eloquently. Sorry. Don't worry, though; a big heart-to-heart is coming. :)

The song Kristoff is singing at the beginning is "One Night Love Affair" by Bryan Adams, and the chapter title is borrowed from the song of the same name by The Byrds.

Thanks for your patience and continued interest in this story! I love you all. :) See you soon!


	19. About Last Night

**Chapter 19: **_**About Last Night**_

_**-Anna-**_

Anna kept her head down, staring into her mug of morning coffee as she mindlessly swirled it around with a teaspoon. The hotel offered breakfast to all guests in the small café attached to the lobby. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was sufficient enough; Anna was able to make a small plate of ham and scrambled eggs that she could poke at with her fork but not really eat.

She'd claimed a table toward the back, and though it was somewhat hidden by loadbearing post, she made sure she was sitting with her back to the café. Anna felt like shit, so she figured she must have _looked_ like shit, too; as Elsa always told her, she had a tendency to wear her emotions. Misery, shame, and humiliation probably showed right through the makeup she'd put on before coming downstairs, and none of the handful of people eating breakfast needed to see that.

Kristoff had not tried to call or text her after she'd abruptly left his hotel room the night before, and she couldn't blame him. He probably thought she was a freak or a prude. It didn't really matter, anyway, as Anna was certain she wouldn't have responded if he'd tried. What would she have said? _Hey, Kristoff, sorry I led you on. I wanted it, too. But then I remembered how it used to make me feel, so I bailed. Sorry. I know we're both adults, but could we still date without doing any of that, at least for a while?_ That would have gone over really well.

Anna inhaled a deep breath in a near fruitless attempt to quell the tears threatening to fall; she'd done enough crying the previous night. She knew she'd ruined the best thing that had happened to her in the past year, in perhaps her entire life. People had wants, had _needs_, and Kristoff, she knew, was no exception to that. He wasn't going to wait around forever and she had no right to expect him to. He had other options, and if he hadn't realized it before, he certainly must have after the stunt she'd pulled.

What devastated her the most, though, was that she'd denied herself what she'd finally been able to admit to herself she wanted: _him._ Anna had fantasized about Kristoff more times than she could count and in ways she'd never even known her mind was capable of dreaming up. In spite of never liking the actual act itself, Anna knew in her heart it would be different with Kristoff, and she'd wanted that _so much_. After all, the movies and books and general chatter couldn't be entirely wrong right? Anna truly believed being intimate with someone could be good – amazing, even – and she wanted to experience that for herself, even if only once.

But, as per usual, stupid, arrogant asshole Hans had to poke his way into her mind, and Anna worried it would always be that way. He would _always_ be there.

_You'll never be normal,_ she thought to herself dejectedly, _and now Kristoff knows that. You lost him. He deserves better, anyway. _

"Hey."

Anna dropped her spoon at the sound of her name. The silver utensil clinked against the bottom of her mug, causing a few drops of coffee to jump out and land on the ivory tablecloth. She looked up to see Kristoff, holding his own cup and a plate of breakfast.

"H-hi," she choked out, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I... I mean, good morning."

"Morning," he reciprocated. He nodded toward the empty chair in front of her. "May I sit with you?"

Anna crinkled her eyebrows and took a glance over her shoulder. There were still lots of open tables.

"Yeah," Anna murmured, nodding and giving her best attempt as a smile. "Yes, please do."

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Kristoff started on his breakfast, so Anna figured she might as well, too, instead of just pushing it around her plate and making it look like she ate something. The food was nothing to write home about, but it was what one would expect at a standard hotel. She finished most of her plate before sipping on her coffee again.

"So, uh…" Kristoff said. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh, um… I'm okay, I guess. You?"

"I'm alright."

Quiet fell between them again, although she had a feeling they were both thinking of the night before and what had gone wrong. She saw the uneasiness on his face, and that was the first time it had occurred to Anna that Kristoff may have been feeling guilty. She'd been so consumed with the notion of losing him, of disappointing him, of blaming herself and her stupid anxiety for everything that she'd not once stopped to consider what Kristoff may have made of the situation. Somehow, she knew he wanted to talk about it.

"Hey, Kristoff-" she began, but just as the words left her mouth, Kristoff spoke, too.

"Anna, about last night…"

Apprehensive smiles crossed both their faces then, as did touches of pink.

"Can I go first?"

Anna nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright. Anna… I just… I'm sorry," Kristoff said. "I didn't mean to push you or make you feel like we had to do anything. I-"

"Kristoff, no," Anna whimpered. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I was the one pushing you. I just… I panicked, that's all. I'm sorry."

"May I ask why?" Kristoff queried cautiously. "If you were worried about protection, I had some."

"It wasn't that. I'm on the pill, anyway."

"Then was it about… well, _other_ things?" he continued. "Because Anna, given my job… well, I have physical exams regularly. I'm always tested for things just in case, and I swear I'm clean."

"No. Kristoff… it had nothing to do with you." She offered him a smile in an attempt to reassure him, but now all she could wonder was exactly how many women he'd slept with to merit such tests.

"Then what was it?" Kristoff implored gently. "Anna… it broke my heart to see you leave like that. I'm not mad, just… I thought… you and I… I feel like things have been going really well…"

"They have," Anna said. "Oh, Kristoff, they really have. And I've gone and ruined it. I'm so sorry…"

"Stop. You haven't ruined anything."

"Kristoff-"

"Would I be here if you had?" he asked. "I mean, I can't speak for you, but I certainly still want to be around you. If you feel differently-"

"I don't," she countered quickly. "I definitely don't. Sorry, I didn't mean... I hope you didn't think…"

Her voice trailed off when she felt Kristoff's hand cover her own. Though they were in the back of the café and a fair distance away from the few additional people there, they were still in a public place, and an intimate one at that. It wasn't like the streets of Boston or New York where they easily blended in. If a member of the team were to walk in, they would be spotted in an instant. Kristoff, however, didn't seem to mind. He didn't pull his hand away from hers, instead opting to give it an affectionate squeeze.

"Anna, I don't want to be pushy," he clarified. "I care a lot about you, that's all, and… well, I just want to understand. Please, tell me what happened. If anything, it can help me make sure it doesn't happen again."

Anna shrugged and gazed down at their joined hands.

"I… nothing, it's stupid," she said.

She watched as his thumb began to draw soothing, delicate circles against her. Kristoff didn't say anything back, so Anna shifted her eyes to him. Kristoff was looking at her with such reverence and encouragement, as if he was saying _I'm sure it isn't_. Anna remembered how kind, considerate, and, most importantly, uncritical he'd been when she'd told him about Hans. He knew what she'd been through, so perhaps the reasoning behind her freak-out wouldn't be as outlandish to him as she'd figured it would be.

"I… I don't like sex," she confessed in a whimper.

"Oh," he said after a moment of silence. There was a hint of surprise in his voice, and Anna almost swore she detected a bit of disappointment as well.

"I want to like it," she carried on. "It's just… my experiences… nothing."

"Anna, it's okay," Kristoff pressed tenderly. "Go ahead."

"I… I've only ever been with one person. You know that now, and I'm sure you can guess who that person was." He nodded then, gesturing for her to continue. "So… yeah. Early on, it was what it was. I didn't expect it to be amazing at first, of course, but I thought it could be that way in time, you know? I mean, why else would people talk about it all the time, or even risk their marriages for it? But it just never got there. It was… well, it was all about him. My needs were… never mind. You get the idea. Anyway, I just never liked it. Never really wanted it after a while. So… that's that."

Anna didn't want to get into any more detail than that. She didn't think it was necessary to say that it had felt degrading and even humiliating after a while, like she had been nothing but an object to use when he'd needed to get his kicks. Hans had never put in the time or effort to get to know her body or ask what she did and didn't like, and it wasn't until long after they broke up that Anna had learned that wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

She looked at Kristoff as he tightened his grip on her hand, mildly surprised to see the anger in his normally friendly eyes.

"That disgusting bastard," he growled. "How could he do that to you?"

Anna shrugged and hung her head. "It's not like I ever said no. I went along with it."

"Still, any halfway decent man would know when a woman isn't into it."

"He _wasn't_ a decent man. He had his merits, but decency was not one of them."

"I'm sorry," Kristoff said sincerely. "Anna…"

"I want you to know," Anna began, "that last night with you… I really did want it. But feeling like garbage afterward… and _during_… is all I've ever known, and I was scared that it might happen again. I just really like you, Kristoff, and I panicked when I realized that could be tainted. I'm such a fuck-up. God…"

"You're not a fuck-up," he countered. "Please, don't ever think things like that. You've been through a lot."

"I just think it's going to take me a little time," Anna mumbled. "I hope that's okay with you."

"Can I be honest with you about something?" he asked. "Like, no sugarcoating?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Alright. Anna, I'm not going to lie. I want you. A lot."

"Kristoff…"

"What? I do. You're incredible, Anna, and beautiful… and sexy."

Now she knew he was making things up. Anna smiled nervously to conceal the impending eye-roll of disbelief. She thought of her slim figure, petite curves, pale skin, and all the things about her that were very obviously unattractive and had been another factor in why she'd panicked the night before.

"I'm _not_ sexy," she murmured, shaking her head a little.

"Yes, you are," Kristoff refuted. "How can you not think that?"

Anna shrugged. "I don't know. I'm dainty and freckly. I'm usually described as cute if anything. Not… not _sexy_. Sexy women are… well, they aren't like me."

"To each their own, but Anna… goodness," he breathed. "If only you knew how many times I've thought about you in… in _ways_…"

"Kristoff!" she gasped. She felt the color rise in her cheeks, but then she saw him grinning. Was he actually being serious? "Wait… really?"

"Yes, really. Is that bad?"

"No," she answered quickly, fighting the urge to start dancing in her chair. "It's just… I… I'm very flattered."

"Good. I… I just really wanted you to know that. You deserve to know how beautiful I think you are, and how much you're desired, because you are. You _really_ are."

"Th-thank you."

"Now, that said," Kristoff progressed, "please don't feel bad for needing more time. I'm not that guy, Anna. I'm willing to wait, okay? You're… well, you're worth that. So please don't think I'm going to get pushy, and don't feel like you need to rush on my account. Just know you're very much wanted."

"You are, too," Anna said with a smile. "I just need to get over my nerves, and I will. I'll get there."

They fell silent again, and Anna began to ponder just how long it would take to feel like she could get through it. That was the problem right there: she still saw it as something she needed to _get through_. That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. She was allowed to enjoy it, too, and she should've. If Kristoff's insinuations were any indication, he felt the same way.

"It can be really great, you know," Kristoff spoke in a hushed tone after a while.

"Sorry?"

"Intimacy," he clarified. "Sharing that with someone… it's…well, it can be wonderful. When it's right."

He raised his eyes to her at that last part, gaze gently piercing her and melting her insides. He eyed her with such care and admiration, seemingly telling her _I can give you that_. In spite of everything she'd experienced, Anna believed him. When the time came and she finally felt ready, her heart knew Kristoff would be good to her. He'd take his time, consider what she wanted, and lavish her in affection.

They departed the café shortly after. The game was early in the afternoon, and Kristoff was expected to be at the arena no later than ten o'clock for warm-ups and a quick practice session.

"What floor?" he asked once they were in the elevator. "I'll walk you to your room."

"Oh. Thank you," Anna answered with a smile. "Um, fourth."

They held hands as Anna led Kristoff to room 438, only letting go when she needed to dig into her purse to find her key. She slid the card through the metal slot next to the doorknob, allowed it to blink green twice, and opened it a crack.

"Thank you," she repeated. "Not just for walking me up, but for… for everything."

"Of course," Kristoff said. "Hey, uh… I hate to be so forward, but, uh…"

Anna tilted her head. "What is it?"

"Do you, uh… do you mind if I come in for just a second?" he asked sheepishly. "Sorry, I know that seems weird after what we just talked about-"

"Oh! Sure!" Anna chirped. Maybe he just needed to use the bathroom. "Come on in."

She opened the door wider and stepped aside to let him pass her.

"So," she began as she allowed the door to fall closed behind her, "what did you- oh!"

Anna gasped as Kristoff pulled her in for a tight hug. At first, she was too surprised to move, but within seconds she was weakening in the familiarity and security of his tender hold. She rested her head against his shoulder on instinct, sighing blissfully and relishing in his warmth.

"I've been wanting to do this all morning," Kristoff murmured. "Last night, too… when you left… all I wanted to do was chase you down the hallway and hold you and tell you everything was okay."

"Why didn't you? I wouldn't have been mad."

"I just figured you needed some space," he said. "And I had a boner. It's hard to run with a boner, you know."

Anna chortled into his shoulder. "I can imagine."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Kristoff," Anna said, pulling back so she could look at him, "you never have to ask to kiss me."

They both smiled as their lips touched, then locked, then danced. Anna was so enamored with it that she didn't even concern herself with the fact that she'd just eaten breakfast and probably had horrible breath. It was just as well, because Kristoff obviously didn't care; he was too preoccupied with showing Anna how much he cherished and wanted her despite all her imperfections.

"Good luck in the game," she breathed when they pulled apart. "Not that you need luck… you're amazing. I'll be cheering for you."

"Thanks. I'll see you on the bus after?"

"Yeah."

"One more kiss to hold me over?"

Anna grinned. "Absolutely."

* * *

The dough felt cool and smooth against Anna's fingers as she gently kneaded it. In contrast, she could feel the heat from the nearby oven against her back, eagerly awaiting the filed loaf pan so it could turn that squishy dough into golden bread. She loved to bake bread; though it was a lengthy process, there was something satisfying about it, and it always left the kitchen smelling like heaven. That's why she'd volunteered to be on bread duty that evening.

The family tried to have a dinner together after every away stretch. It was the night after the team returned from the string of away games in Canada, and both Anna and Elsa were visiting their childhood home for a dinner with their parents. Everyone had a role to fill: Elsa was responsible for salad, their mother was making scalloped potatoes, and their father, as usual, was in charge of the meat dish. It didn't matter what season it was; as long as nothing was falling from the sky, Adgar Arendelle took every available opportunity to fire up the charcoal grill in the backyard. Dessert had been fetched by Elsa from one of the local bakeries: a chocolate cheesecake.

"Looks about ready," her mother commented. "If you pop it in now, it'll be ready just in time."

Anna grinned. "You read my mind."

She shaped the dough in the pan and slid it into the oven, which was just warm enough for proofing. She'd increase the temperature later when it was ready. As she wiped her hands on a dish towel, Anna caught sight of her father through the kitchen window. Adgar was out on the back porch, bundled up in his winter gear as he got the grill going. She was about to suggest bringing him a warm beverage when Elsa groaned on the other side of the kitchen.

"Damn it! I forgot the tomatoes," she sighed.

"It's not that big of a deal," Anna began, but both Elsa and their mother cut her off.

"Yes it is!" they both declared. While Anna and Adgar were impartial to tomatoes, they were a favorite of Elsa and Idun; in their opinion, no salad was complete without them. As such, Elsa began to cover up the vegetables she'd cut so far.

"I'm just going to the store really quick. Anyone need anything else?"

"Actually, I could use some more butter, if you don't mind?" Idun asked. "We'll be out by tonight."

"Butter. Got it. Anna?"

Anna declined with a smile and returned to cleaning up her area, wiping down the counter with a moist towel to collect the rogue flour. She'd gotten some on the floor, too, and was about to fetch a broom when her mother stopped her.

"Don't worry about it!" Idun laughed. "We're all making messes today. We can get it later."

Just as Elsa departed, signaled by the distant sound of the front door closing, Adgar stepped through the sliding door leading to the back deck.

"Brrr!" he chortled, wiping his shoes on the mat before kicking them off. "It's the North Pole out there!"

"You don't even have to be out there, you know," Idun quipped. "Anna just put the bread in and the potatoes won't be done for a while. Steaks don't take that long to grill!"

"Ah, but it gives me an excuse to have you warm me up," he snickered, holding out his arms. "Give me a hug!"

"You know I- AH! Adgar, your hands are freezing!" Idun laughed as Adgar gently grabbed her upper arms. The knife she'd been using clattered against the cutting board when he pulled her back against his chest and began to nuzzle her neck. Anna giggled as her mom shrieked.

"How about my nose? Is my nose cold, too?"

"Adgar! You're like a polar bear!"

"And you know what polar bears are great for? Bear hugs!" he exclaimed.

With Idun's back still against his chest, Adgar lifted her off her feet and began to twirl her around. He held her tightly while attempting to imitate the sound of a bear's growl. On the sidelines, all Anna could do was laugh hysterically. If only the team could see her dad in his natural habitat, rather than the arena where he had a specific image to maintain. It was always a riot to see her dad in the comfort of home, for only then did he allow his true self to come out: a goofy, humble dork who was helplessly in love with his family.

Before long, Adgar and Idun were dancing around the kitchen to the tune of a car dealership commercial jingle playing from the nearby radio Elsa had turned on earlier. Anna watched on with a smile, fascinated that after so many years, it sometimes seemed like her mother and father had just met and were young lovebirds all over again. Her parents would be celebrating their thirtieth wedding anniversary in June, and while thirty years was a long time, it didn't drag them down at all. If anything, time had only brought them closer. Anna wistfully wondered if she would ever share with another person what her parents so passionately shared with each other. She envied them in a way, but at the same time felt truly blessed to be the product of such a union.

"Ew, real music!" Adgar joked as the car commercial came to an end and some Top 40 song started playing. He planted a kiss on his wife's forehead before excusing himself to use the bathroom.

"Well," Idun chirped while clapping her hands together, "it'll be a while on the bread so I'll wait a little longer to start the potatoes, and who knows when Elsa will be back. Shall we set the table now?"

Anna nodded. "Sure. The usual set?"

"Actually," her mother said thoughtfully, "let's take out the china."

"Really? We never use that! The only time we do is-"

"Holidays. I know. All the more reason to. No point in having a set of dishes that we rarely use!"

Anna grinned. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

Her mother shrugged. "I just feel like it. C'mon."

Both women retreated to the dining room to fetch the china, which was housed in a gorgeous mahogany hutch that had once belonged to Adgar's mother. Anna handled the fine glass plates delicately as she carried them to the table, admiring the golden design adorning the edges. She'd always loved her parents' china; it was so pretty, and she could still remember the times many years ago when she would secretly host dinner parties for her stuffed animals using it. Somehow, she'd never gotten caught.

"Did I ever tell you your Aunt Arianna bought us this set for our wedding?" her mother said as they began to arrange plates on the table. When Anna shook her head, Idun continued. "I'll never forget it. We were out shopping to get ideas for my bridal registry, and a china set caught my eye. It had a gorgeous trim of pink rosebuds. Anyway, your Aunt picked up one of the cups, sneezed, and dropped the thing! It smashed into a thousand pieces."

"Oh, no!" Anna laughed. She knew she had inherited her clumsiness from her Aunt Arianna, but at least she'd never broken anything while hosting pretend dinner parties. "Did it cost a lot?"

"No idea. We ran."

"_Mom!_"

"I know, I know!" Idun laughed. "We could never show our faces in that store again. So when I held your aunt's gift at my bridal shower, I wondered if she'd actually gone back for the set with the pink rosebuds. I knew it was china because of the size of the box. But when I opened it, it was this one, and I loved it so much more. It suits more occasions."

"Yeah, I agree," Anna said. "I've always loved it."

"Me, too. So, you know what? To heck with holidays. I'm going to use it whenever I feel like it, even if it's just to eat pizza rolls on movie nights."

As Anna started folding napkins, she thought about how fun it must have been for her mother to plan her wedding. She could clearly picture her Aunt Arianna excitedly dragging the reserved and mild-mannered Idun in and out of dress stores, flower shops, and bakeries. Then there was the wedding itself, which Anna, of course, had seen many pictures of. As far as she could tell, it had been a magnificent party. Her parents looked so elated as they twirled each other around the dance floor with twinkles in their eyes.

"Hey, mom?" Anna asked suddenly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, sweetheart."

"How did you know you were meant to be with dad?"

Idun smiled, absently staring at the utensils she was arranging. "Well, you know we dated for quite a while, and more than once."

"Yeah, I know," Anna said. She recalled the tales of when her parents dated briefly in their first few months of college before finding one another again in their senior year. "But you dated a lot of other men, too. Not _a lot_," she corrected when she saw Idun frowning at her, "but you dated others. How did you know dad was… well, _the one_?"

Her mom opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by the sound of Adgar loudly singing as he came barreling down the hallway. He poked his head into the dining room as he passed.

"Hello, beautifuls!" he chirped. "Where's Elsa?"

"She ran out to get tomatoes. She'll be right back," Idun said.

"You and your tomatoes. You're lucky I love you!"

And with that, he started singing again and proceeded down the hallway, presumably toward the back door to the deck. Both Anna and her mother chortled.

"Well, for one, he always makes me laugh! It's easy to be around him. And obviously I married him for his devilishly handsome looks and his money," Idun jested.

"Mom, c'mon," Anna chuckled.

"You know I'm kidding! But in all seriousness, as much of a goofball as he is, he's an incredibly smart and articulate man, and that's a very attractive thing. And he's kind, and spirited, and he always puts others first."

"I know, but… Mom, that can describe anyone," Anna sighed. "I'm sure every guy you ever dated was all of those things. But what made dad so special? There had to be something. I know you love him, but… I just want to know how you knew he was more than just another boyfriend."

Idun smiled and shrugged.

"It's one of those things that can't be explained," she said. "Because you're right: I can sing your father's praises until the day I die, but nearly everything I say could also describe a friend, or my sister, or you. But the truth is, I just love him, plain and simple. We were made for each other, I suppose."

"Alright," Anna conceded. "_When_ did you know? Is that better?"

"I guess," her mother laughed. "Mind you, it's been many years, so I don't even remember why the thought crossed my mind. But there was a moment I realized that no matter what, I was his first priority. He was deeply involved with the team even then, so he was a very busy man, but he always made time for me. He may not have always been able to rearrange his schedule or be in the same city as me, but he always made sure I knew he was thinking about me. He'd call me whenever he could, sometimes even have flowers delivered when he was away. And I remember thinking he wasn't just being romantic, but was showing devotion. So… yeah. That's when I knew. I knew the moment I realized I wasn't just another girl to him, and he wasn't just another guy to me. It was more than that."

"Wow," Anna breathed. There really wasn't much more to say other than to agree with her. Everything Idun had said about Adgar was true. He was devoted not only to his wife, but to his daughters. Anna could remember times when she and Elsa were younger when no mattered how tired their father was, he would watch them perform a silly dance for him or help them with their math problems, all while smiling right through the fatigue painted on his face.

"Why are you asking all of this?" Idun asked. "Not that I mind, but it just seems very abrupt."

"Oh. No reason, really. Just wondering."

Anna should have known better; she had never been a very good liar. Idun was giving her an all-knowing grin.

"Is there a new man in your life?"

She quickly decided there was no point in trying to hide it. Instead, Anna settled for a smile.

"There's… well, there's someone I'm interested in, that's all," she admitted.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's wonderful!"

Her mother thankfully did not push for further details. Idun was good about privacy, and was always patient for both Anna and Elsa to share personal matters on their own terms.

"I'm not jumping into anything serious, but I just… well, I wanted to know what to look for. I know what I had with Hans wasn't love," Anna whimpered, "and I know now that I should've never been engaged to someone like that. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. I don't want to misinterpret certain things as love, but I also don't want to rob myself of happiness just because I'm too scared. I'm a mess."

"Oh, honey, you're far from a mess!" Idun soothed. "Being aware of your concerns and needs puts you in far better shape than most people out there."

"I guess," she said with a shrug. "I just hope I don't screw up again."

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. But believe me: you'll know when it's real love. You'll know he's the right man, and it will probably strike you when you least expect it. But once you know it, don't ever let him go. True love is sacred and doesn't come by every day. Some people spend their whole lives looking for it, so if you're lucky enough to find it, you have to hold onto it. And I really hope you do find that, sweetheart."

Anna smiled. "Thanks, Mom. I'm glad you and dad did."

"You should be. You wouldn't be here without it!"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me," she joked.

At that moment, Elsa stepped into the dining room having arrived back from her detour to the grocery store. The three women returned to the kitchen to continue preparing dinner. Though she engaged in conversation with her mother and sister, her mind was, as usual, off in another world. Also as usual, she was thinking about Kristoff. Was he the man she'd have _the moment_ about, or was there another guy in her future? Or, heaven forbid, would she be like the ones her mother described who never found it?

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Anna was roused from her sleep due to thirst. She woke up in the familiar surroundings of her old bedroom, having opted to spend the night at her parents' house after a bit too much wine. She yawned, stretched, and shuffled out of the room and down the stairs as quietly as possible.

She squinted as she pulled open the refrigerator door, the bright light the ultimate assault on her tired eyes. Her mouth was so dry, almost as if it had been stuffed with cotton balls, so everything she saw looked tempting, but she eventually settled on raspberry iced tea. It was her mom's favorite beverage, but surely she wouldn't mind if Anna had a small glass.

Anna plopped down at the kitchen table to enjoy her drink, and she sighed contently at the first sip, the cold liquid soothing her throat. She tried not to widen her eyes too much so she could easily fall back to sleep once she was back upstairs, and was doing a great job of it until something on the table caught her eye. A small plate from the china set was there, and Anna crinkled her eyebrows.

_We did all the dishes,_ she thought. _Did we miss one?_

Then she noticed not one, but two forks beside it. Upon closer inspection, she saw remnants of chocolate cheesecake on the plate. She smiled sleepily; her parents must have snuck downstairs at some point to share a late night snack. She grabbed the plate and forks and placed them in the sink along with her now empty glass.

However, as she headed for the stairs to return to bed, another thing that was quite unusual at such an hour caught her attention: music. A slow, barely-there melody was coming from somewhere in the house. Anna stepped into the dark living room, saw nothing, and continued down the hallway until she saw a beam of light pouring out of her father's study. Curious, she pattered toward the light and the sound, grinning when she poked her head in.

There were her parents, pajama-clad and hair tousled, dancing to a classic love song on one of her dad's old records. In fact, dancing was a bit of an overstatement; rather, they were holding one another while swaying slightly, feet barely leaving the ground. They were completely lost in each other and didn't even notice Anna's presence.

As she watched them, smiling from ear to ear, Anna knew that's what she wanted out of life. She knew dating around and living on the wild side was all the rage for most people in their twenties, but Anna had no interest in that. Perhaps it was the old way of thinking, but she truly wanted what her parents had. She wanted to share an eternal bond with someone the way they did with each other. She wanted marriage, a home, and a family.

Perhaps it was why she'd never felt fulfilled with Hans no matter how often she'd tried to convince herself she was. Maybe she knew deep down that he wasn't the real deal and that her wants never could have been satisfied with him. On that note, she wondered if it was part of the reason she'd been hesitant with Kristoff. For all she knew, Kristoff was only interested in something casual and may not have had any desire in getting serious with someone in the foreseeable future. It frightened her how much she wished that wasn't the case. Kristoff was a good man, and though it was likely premature, she could envision herself building a life with him and being immeasurably happy.

But she knew better than to get her hopes too high. People were settling down later and later in life those days, and Anna knew few sought serious relationships so early in life. Kristoff, especially, probably didn't yearn for such things, what with being a young, healthy, attractive man who was constantly on the road. For him, settling down would likely be a nuisance.

When Anna got back upstairs, she checked her phone for the time; no one had bothered to reset the clock on the nightstand after a power outage ages ago, and it was still blinking midnight. It turned out it actually wasn't far off. Anna's phone read 12:16, but she didn't concern herself with the time when she saw what else her screen said: _Three (3) new messages from Kristoff_.

She eagerly opened her inbox and scrolled up to read the first one, which had been sent around nine-thirty in the evening, nearly four hours ago:

_Hey. I missed talking to you today. I know you're with your family, so please don't feel bad. I just wanted you to know I've been thinking about you. I miss you, and I hope you had a great day. Talk soon. :)_

The next one was sent shortly after, and was a photograph a dog sleeping on a couch. The third message immediately followed:

_Sven says good night, as do I. Sleep well!_

Anna smiled and began to type in a reply. She knew it was late, but she didn't want Kristoff to think she'd forgotten about him.

_Hey! Thanks for the picture,_ she wrote._ It's adorable! I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I had a bit too much wine and went to bed early. Spending the night at my parents' house, actually. I've been thinking a lot about you, too, and I miss you. See you tomorrow at the arena? Good night. (Good morning, technically!)_

She placed her phone down, settled back against her pillow, and closed her eyes. Anna could feel sleep coming on easily until a flash of light forced her to open her eyes again. Her phone was blinking on her nightstand. Was Kristoff still up?

Sure enough, there was a new message from him:

_Definitely. Looking forward to it. :) __Now, get to bed, you lush!_

Anna giggled as she lied back down, only this time her eyes were wide open as she smiled. She knew it was because everything with Kristoff was new and exciting, but she liked to think Kristoff was really her guy, and it was things like that which made her think he really could be.

Maybe it was Kristoff – the stinky grump she'd met during an interview he had no desire to do – who, years and years down the road, she'd be awake with at midnight for a slice of cake and a dance.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Almost at the sexytimes, guys. I promise. :) It's a chapter I've been (im)patiently waiting for since I started this story over a year (!) ago, and knowing it's finally right around the corner makes me so happy. I can't wait to share it with all of you!

See you soon!


	20. Meet Me in St Louis

**Chapter 20: **_**Meet Me in St. Louis**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

"Will you give it a rest?" Troy moaned. "You know those plays like the back of your hand. Staring at them won't change a thing."

"Shut it," Dimitri muttered, not tearing his gaze from the playbook in front of him. "Our ranking is on the line. If we lose this one, we fall back down to second."

"But it's only February! We can work our way back up."

"With an attitude like that, we won't even make the playoffs. Every game counts."

Troy mumbled something about there being no way they could win every single game until the end of the season, but he kept his voice low and Dimitri didn't seem to notice. Instead, the captain kept his eyes glued to the page before him, studying for the umpteenth time the most common defensive strategies used by the St. Louis Blues. Meanwhile, Troy turned his attention back to his phone, clicking away at some game he was engrossed in.

Kristoff was normally inclined to agree with Dimitri, but that day, he couldn't help but side with Troy. While it wasn't outside of the norm for Dimitri to study plays in preparation for their upcoming games, he did seem to be harping on it quite a bit that morning. In addition, he always did those things before arriving at the airport. The terminal, much like the locker room, was generally reserved for banter and small talk among the teammates about things going on outside of work. Kristoff usually avoided such chatter, but Dimitri would almost always partake.

"He's got a point, you know," Kristoff said so only Dimitri could hear. "Taking a break is just as important as working. C'mon, put them away for a while."

"Look, if you want to slack off, fine," he snapped. "But I want to win, alright?"

Kristoff was taken aback by his words. Dimitri was never short-tempered with anyone and always approached conflict calmly. Then, Kristoff noticed that his friend's eyes weren't actually moving, but merely staring at the page, clearly not absorbing anything.

"Hey, man, you alright?"

"Fine. Just trying to work."

"You sure? 'Cause you seem a little… on edge."

"I know," Dimitri sighed, finally closing the playbook. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Sorry I got cross. Didn't mean it."

Kristoff nodded. "Something going on?"

"It's just Tatyana. It's… never mind."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah… no. I don't know. She's been feeling weird lately. Random pains and such."

"That's normal, though, isn't it?" Kristoff actually wasn't sure. He'd known people who had babies, but they'd never been close enough for him to bother learning the precise and gritty details of pregnancy. All he knew were things he'd learned from movies, TV shows, and health class back in school. As such, he was relieved when Dimitri nodded.

"Yeah, it is, but it still freaks me out. It's too early. She's not due for another three weeks."

"That's not that far off."

"Yeah, but what if something's wrong?"

"I'm sure everything's fine."

"Probably," Dimitri conceded, "but I'm worried something's going to happen when I'm not here. Away games never used to bother me, but now I don't want to get on that plane. I don't want to go."

"It's just because you know the big day isn't far off," Kristoff assured him. "Besides, even if something were to happen while we're on the road, you'll get a phone call and you'll fly straight home."

"Not if we're in the middle of a game!"

Kristoff didn't have an answer for that. If something were to happen mid-game, Dimitri wouldn't find out until it ended, or during an intermission if he was lucky.

"That's what worries me the most," Dimitri continued. "If she goes while we're on the road, and I find out too late and I miss it… I'll never forgive myself. And God forbid, if something goes wrong and I'm not with her…"

"That's not going to happen," Kristoff assured him. "We won't let it. If we're mid-game and Tatyana can't get in touch with you, she can get in touch with Adgar or Anna. It's going to be fine."

"Yeah… yeah, I know. Thanks."

"Anytime."

"How about you, though?"

"Sorry?"

"What's going on with you? Take my mind off of things," he added. "Heading up to New Hampshire again soon?"

"Oh," Kristoff said. "Yeah, I was thinking about next weekend. We've got it off, so the timing would work. Just depends on the weather."

"You bringing Anna along?"

"I, uh, I hadn't thought about it."

Actually, Kristoff had thought about it quite a lot. He really wanted to ask her, but was it too soon for such things? Meeting one another's family was a big deal. Though he technically already knew Anna's family, he knew it would be a momentous occasion the first time she invited him to a family function that didn't involve work in any way.

"Why not? She's your girl! Spend as much time with her as you can!"

Kristoff smiled. It was nice hearing Anna referred to as _his girl_. Just a short while ago, the phrase irritated him to no end, but now he couldn't get enough of it. He glanced over at where she was sitting with her father, his heart skipping a beat when her eyes met his and she grinned.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe I will. Ask her, I mean."

"Good."

"How about you? Anything new?"

Dimitri shrugged. "Nah. We finished the baby's room a couple of weeks ago. Ever since then, it's just been the waiting game."

"What color did you decide on?"

"Green. Yellow seemed a bit pretentious," he added with a chuckle.

Kristoff smirked. "Like your kid could be a fan of any other team!"

"You never know!"

At that moment, Dimitri reached into his pocket to fetch his phone, which Kristoff could faintly hear vibrating.

"Tatyana," he muttered, standing up. "Hang on, I'll be right back."

As Dimitri departed to take the call in a quieter spot, Kristoff took out his own phone, surprised to see that he had a text message from Anna waiting for him.

_Hey_, it read, _you're cute. Let's go out. :-* _

Kristoff grinned and lifted his gaze from his phone to her. He could see the playful look in her eyes and was almost certain he saw her wink. He wrote back right away.

_Well, thank you very much. You're pretty cute, too, if you don't mind me saying. ;-)_

_Thanks. I'm flattered! So, how about that date?_

_Sure. What did you have in mind?_

_How about we get some of whatever St. Louis's food is?_

Kristoff crinkled his eyes in confusion. What was she talking about? Anna either saw his face or knew her comment was confusing, because an explanation popped up on his phone about twenty seconds later.

_You know how all the big cities have a special food? Like, Philadelphia is cheese steak and Chicago is pizza? What's St. Louis?_

Kristoff chuckled quietly and responded:

_Damned if I know! :p_

_Well, we should figure out what it is and find some. _

_I'd be up for that. :)_

_Good. :) I have to get some work done once we get in, but maybe we can meet up later this evening. Would that work?_

Just as he was about to respond that nothing would make him happier, he caught sight of Dimitri walking not his seat, but over to Adgar Arendelle. The team manager stood as Dimitri approached. Kristoff tried to make out what the two were saying to one another, but all he could see was Adgar nodding periodically before offering Dimitri a handshake. Shortly after, Dimitri came back to his seat, but did not take it.

"Everything okay?" Kristoff asked.

"Yeah," Dimitri answered, grabbing his carry-on duffel bag from the ground and throwing it over his shoulder. "Just… her water broke."

"_What?!_"

"It's go time!" he said with a smile. Kristoff could see Dimitri's eyes getting wet as he nervously shrugged.

"Holy shit," Kristoff murmured, standing up. "Is Tatyana okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's good. Still at home, and we're going to head to the hospital once I get there."

"Wow, man… congratulations. Seriously. You alright?"

"Yeah. Just… you know, terrified. It's so early…"

"Everything's going to be fine," Kristoff assured him.

"I hope so. I just talked to Adgar. Depending on how things go, I'm going to try to get to St. Louis by tomorrow. I might have to miss it, though... _might_."

"Mateev, miss as many as you need to," Kristoff declared. "Really, we've got this. Take care of your family, alright? Give Tatyana my best. Good luck."

"Thanks, man," Dimitri said, shaking Kristoff's hand. "Oh, and hey, could you do me a favor? Could you grab my checked bag from the carousel once you land? I can't get it back now. It's a navy blue one with a red ribbon tied to the handle."

"Blue with a red ribbon. Got it. No problem."

"Thanks," he repeated. "Guess I'll see you in Minnesota."

"If you have to miss Minnesota, too, then miss it. Miss this whole stretch if you need to, alright? Don't worry about us. Now go! Get outta here!"

"I'll keep you posted!"

With a final nervous nod, Dimitri left the waiting area outside of their gate, just as Troy was returning from his trip to the bathroom.

"Where's Mateev off to?"

"Home. The baby's coming."

"What?!" Troy exclaimed. "I thought they weren't due until next month!"

"They weren't. It's an early one."

"Holy shit," Troy muttered, echoing Kristoff's sentiment from earlier. "How's he doing? And Tatyana?"

"Tatyana's fine. And Mateev, he's… a lot more freaked out than he's letting on. He's claiming there's a possibility he might try to make the game tomorrow, if that tells you anything."

"Ha!" Troy exclaimed. "Yup. Total panic mode."

"Attention," came an automated voice throughout the terminal, "Flight 1376 to St. Louis is now boarding at Gate 15. Please have your boarding pass and photo ID ready. Attention. Flight 1376 to St. Louis…"

"And, off we go," Troy whined. "Ten days… ten days…"

"Yes, but then we only a have one home game before a free weekend. Worth it!"

Troy grinned. "True. C'mon, let's go."

* * *

Around four-thirty that afternoon, after everyone had been checked-in at the hotel and dropped off their stuff in their respective rooms, Kristoff found himself in the lobby with Troy. Adgar had insisted that the team go out to celebrate the arrival of their "newest team member" despite not yet having any word from Dimitri about the baby. Kristoff planned to go only for an hour or two and fully intended to fulfill his dinner plans with Anna later on that evening. He doubted they'd figure out what St. Louis's special food was, if it even had one, but he wanted to spend time with her just the same.

"Christ, what's taking him so long?" Troy complained.

"Andre's never on time for _anything._ You know that."

"Yeah, but… this is _beer_ we're talking about! _Free_ beer, nonetheless! I heard Adgar plans on buying a round."

"Keep your pants on! He'll be here soon."

Whether Kristoff was correct or not depended upon one's definition of _soon_. It took about ten minutes for Andre to finally show up, and after Troy got in a couple of jabs and some colorful language, the trio began to make their way toward the door. They stopped again, however, when they spotted Anna emerging from the small shop attached to the lobby, a plastic bag dangling from her hand.

"Red!" Troy exclaimed happily. "C'mon, you can walk with us."

"Hi, guys!" Anna said. "What're you all up to?"

"Didn't you hear? We're all getting together at the restaurant across the street. It was Arendelle's- er, your dad's- idea."

"Oh, right," Anna laughed. "Thanks, but I'm going to have to pass."

"Ah, c'mon, Red!" Andre chimed in. "It's gonna be fun!"

"Thanks, guys, really, but I have a lot of work to do. I actually _do_ work on these trips, you know," she added with a laugh.

"Alright, fine," Troy conceded. "Maybe next time. 'Night, Red!"

"Good night! Have a beer for me!"

"Will do!" Troy and Andre said in unison.

Anna offered Kristoff a smile before walking toward the elevators, and he vaguely wondered if she thought he'd forgotten about their plans. He watched her walk for a couple of seconds before telling Troy and Andre to wait for just a second.

"C'mon, man! _Beer!_" Troy reminded him impatiently.

"Relax! Just give me a minute. Or just go and I'll meet you there."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Kristoff scoffed. "It's across the street. I think I can manage."

He briskly walked over to Anna, who'd already pressed the elevator button and was patiently waiting.

"Hey."

"Oh, hey!" she said with a smile. At least she wasn't upset. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you weren't… you know. Mad."

"Mad? Kristoff, it's fine," Anna laughed. "Dimitri's about to have a kid! Go celebrate with the team!"

"You sure you don't want to come?"

"Kristoff, really, I'd love to, but I'm so far behind…"

"Got it," he said. "No worries. But, you still need to eat. Are we still on for dinner?"

"Aren't you going to grab dinner with the team?"

"Nah. I'll have a couple of drinks, but I'm only going to stay for an hour or two."

"Why?"

Kristoff smiled and shrugged. "I'd rather hang out with you."

Anna drew in a quiet, barely-there gasp and her eyes widened, which surprised Kristoff. His relentless desire to spend time with her wasn't exactly a revelation; at least, he didn't think so. In fact, Kristoff had thought he'd been doing a pretty decent job showing Anna how much he wanted to be around her, sometimes to the point that he worried he was annoying her.

"Really?" she asked softly.

"Really. Why does that surprise you?"

"It… it doesn't. It just makes me so happy to hear it."

Anna peaked over his shoulder, presumably to check if Troy and Andre were still there, before pulling him in for a hug. Kristoff held her tightly, closing his eyes while inhaling the sweet, vanilla-honey scent of her hair. He heard the elevator open behind them and assumed Anna would break away from him to catch her ride, but she didn't. Anna held the embrace, snuggling her head against his chest. Kristoff almost decided to skip the celebration at the pub altogether. He knew she had work to get done before they had dinner, but he would have been content to just sit in the room with her while she typed away.

"You're so good to me," he heard her murmur.

He was about to say it was nothing, that it was only dinner, but then he remembered that it wasn't nothing to Anna. To her, it was so much more, simply because she'd been robbed of such devotion in her previous relationship. Perhaps it was a bit selfish on his part, but Kristoff really liked knowing he made her feel wanted, cherished, and loved. It wasn't just making her feel such things, either, because it was all real. She _was_ wanted. She _was_ cherished. She _was_…

_Careful, Bjorgman_, he reminded himself.

"You better get going," he reluctantly stated, pulling back just enough so he could look at her beautiful face. "I don't want you falling behind on work and getting in trouble on my account."

"Is it wrong that I wouldn't care if I did if it meant going to the pub with you?" Anna sighed.

"No," Kristoff chuckled, "but we'll hang out later, okay? At least then I'll be able to properly hug and kiss you. Can't do that with the entire team and your dad around, right?"

"They aren't here now…"

"What?"

Anna just shook her head and smiled. "C'mere…"

Not caring at all they were in a public hotel lobby and on full display to any and all passersby, she cupped his face and kissed him. It wasn't just a quick peck, either; Anna went for the whole nine yards, slipping her tongue between his lips and breathing her soul into his. Kristoff knew the rational thing to do was pull away as quickly as possible, but he soon discovered it wasn't possible at all. They could have stood there, embracing and kissing, by the elevators for an entire week, and he would have had no way of knowing. Kristoff was far too lost in her to worry about something as petty as time.

When they eventually did break apart, her azure eyes were hooded and glossed with adoration, as he was sure his own were.

"So… uh… I'm gonna… we… I, uh… I'll see you tonight, then?" he sputtered. He felt like they were on their first date, yet at the same time felt like he'd known her forever. There was something wickedly delightful about the blend of familiarity and novelty.

Anna nodded, a soft smile on her pink, sodden lips.

"Yeah," she whispered. "See you tonight."

"I'll text you when I'm heading back, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

The elevator dinged then, signaling its arrival. Kristoff and Anna stepped out of the way for an elderly couple stepping off. After Anna got on, Kristoff made his way to the exit to the main road, lost in a blissful trance. He smiled down at his feet as he thought of the beautiful redhead currently riding up to her floor, the one who'd just spent her last however-many-minutes kissing him.

How could he have ever thought she was annoying? Kristoff was ashamed of himself as he thought back to when they first met. He'd been so rude to her, so _short_ with her, all because she'd been the one whose job it was to bestow a minor inconvenience on him. He was _so_ lucky; Kristoff knew his attitude then could have cost him the last few months with who was now undeniably his favorite person in the whole world. He had Anna to thank for that. She could have very easily never spoken to him again, like he deserved, but her heart was too kind for such things. How he'd managed to win that heart was a mystery he'd never solve.

_She _is_ loved_, Kristoff silently admitted as he crossed the street to the pub_. Don't kid yourself_.

* * *

"So, bye bye, Miss American Pie!" belted Troy, Darren, Miles, and Jeff. Miles had slipped some quarters into the jukebox, and now the four of them were swaying back and forth with their arms around one another's shoulders. "Drove my Chevy to levee but the levee was dry! And them good ole boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye…"

"We really need to film them one of these days," Andre said with a laugh, taking a swig of his beer. "They look ridiculous."

"The sad thing is they've only had… what? Two beers each?" Kristoff chuckled. "They aren't even drunk yet."

"Jeff might be. He's more of a lightweight than he lets on."

Kristoff just laughed and took another sip of his beer. He glanced at the bottle; it was now only about a quarter full. It was his second of the night and he'd promised himself he would leave after two drinks. He'd been hoping they would have heard something from Dimitri, as he definitely wanted to celebrate the with the team, but it wasn't looking likely that there'd be an announcement anytime soon.

"It might take all night," Andre said, as if he was reading Kristoff's mind. "It is their first, after all. Steph was in labor for eighteen hours with Natalie."

"Yikes. How was that?"

"Terrifying," Andre chortled. "I think she called me a fucking bastard more times that day than she ever had in our entire marriage combined! No drugs, though, so I can't blame her!"

As Troy and the gang finished up their song, slurring and laughing throughout the last verse, Kristoff glanced across the bar at the right time. Adgar, who'd been chatting with a couple of the coaches, held up a hand and took out his phone. After only a few seconds, he smiled and held it up in the air.

"It's a boy!" he called out gleefully.

"It's a boy!" the team exclaimed, raising their drinks and clinking them against any bottle or glass nearby.

Kristoff joined in on the cheering and finished his beer in celebration. Miles slipped a couple more quarters into the jukebox and within seconds, Lennon's _Beautiful Boy_ was playing throughout the pub. Adgar began walking around with a box of cigars and a lighter, offering one to each member of the team. Kristoff took one, but didn't have it lit, opting to keep it in it's wrapping and merely twirl it between his fingers.

He stayed for a little while longer, but it was easy to sneak away once the celebratory drinks kept flowing. No one noticed him leave, except for Andre, who Kristoff bade good night to before slipping out of the pub. As he crossed the street, he texted Anna:

_Hey! I'm heading back now. I'm in room 312, so met me there whenever you're ready. I should be there in about 5 minutes. By the way, Baby Mateev has arrived! It's a boy! :)_

Once in his room, he first stopped in the bathroom to make sure his hair looked alright and that there wasn't anything unsightly on his face. Then, he turned on the TV and fished out the room service menu from his nightstand drawer. He didn't listen to the commercials in the background as he scanned the hotel's offerings, which were surprisingly varied and appetizing. Content with his choice of a meatball sub and French fries, he tossed the menu to the side and settled back on his bed while he waited for Anna.

After a rerun episode of _How I Met Your Mother_, Anna still hadn't arrived. Kristoff picked up his phone from the nightstand to see if she'd sent him a message saying she was going to be late, but there was nothing in his inbox. Maybe the original hadn't gone through? He sent her another one:

_Hey, I'm not sure if you got my last message, but I'm back in my room now. :) It's room 312. Are we still on for dinner? Let me know. xo_

Kristoff watched the next episode as he waited for a response or a knock on his door. Five minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. By the time the credits began to flash before him, Anna still hadn't responded.

_Hey_, he typed_, is everything okay? Do you want me to come to your room instead? I don't mind. What's your room number? _

He waited another fifteen minutes, but there was still no answer from Anna. By that point, Kristoff's stomach was growling with hunger and he wished he'd eaten something, however small, when he was at the pub with the team.

_Maybe she fell asleep_, Kristoff thought. _That's probably all._

_Hi_, he typed to Anna on his phone one more time. _Me again. I hope you don't mind, but I'm pretty hungry, so I'm gonna go ahead and order myself some dinner. I'll make sure there's leftovers so you have something to eat if you want to swing by. Please, come by anytime. I'll be here. Hope everything is okay. :)_

Kristoff ordered his dinner, which arrived about twenty minutes later. In spite of his hunger, he was a bit disappointed to see the delivery guy on the other side of his door instead of Anna. He saved roughly a third of his sandwich and some of his fries for Anna, stowing them away in the room's mini-fridge. It was looking more and more likely that he'd be having a solo night, so he took a quick shower, threw on a clean pair of boxers, and flopped back down on his bed to watch some more TV.

It was nearing nine o'clock when a there was a soft, barely-audible knock on his door. Kristoff switched off the television and threw on a t-shirt before answering; he knew it had to be Anna on the other side, and he had to look at least somewhat presentable. He smiled when he opened the door, and there she was, wearing a casual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt and still looking more beautiful than ever.

"Hi," she squeaked. "Sorry…"

"No worries," he said, stepping aside. "Please, come in."

"I, uh… sorry I didn't answer," Anna said, glancing at the ground. "Your texts, I mean. I didn't mean to leave you hanging."

"Anna, please, don't worry about it. Is everything alright?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. I was just wrapped up in work and… and stuff, and I… lost track of time, I guess. I'm sorry."

"Please, don't be sorry. It's okay."

"Thanks," she whispered. "I take it you've just been relaxing then?"

He caught her taking a quick glance downward, and it was then Kristoff remembered he'd only been in his underwear before she showed up. He felt his face turn a thousand shades of red as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I, uh… I'll just grab some pants… give me a second…"

"No, no, it's fine," Anna interrupted. "I… I don't mind. I-I mean, if… if you're comfortable… oh, God…"

She whispered that last part before throwing her arms around him. Her lips collided with his own in a fervent kiss that rivaled the passion of the one they'd shared earlier in the hotel lobby, a feat Kristoff never imagined could be achieved. He could feel her hands work their way up his arms to his shoulders, then down over his chest before he pulled back suddenly.

"Whoa," he breathed. "Anna… what… what are you…"

"Please," was all she whispered.

"Please?" he asked, lifting her chin so she would look at him. He watched her swallow hard and glance around the room before finally meeting his eyes.

"I… I know Montreal was my fault…" she whimpered.

"Anna-" he tried to say, but she wouldn't have it.

"…but I wanted it then. I _really_ did. I just… I panicked, that's all. I couldn't stop worrying, and… never mind. The point is… now… I… I mean, if you… Kristoff, I…"

Her voice trailed off, and he could hardly believe what he was hearing. This was the same girl who, just a couple short weeks ago, had fled from the prospect of intimacy, and now there she was, visiting his hotel room and coming on to him with barely any introduction. Kristoff didn't have the slightest complaint, but he was concerned.

"Anna," he murmured, "are you sure? We don't…"

"I know," she whispered. "I know we don't have to. But I want to. God, Kristoff, I want to _so_ much. I want this. I want _you_."

She rested her hands on his chest once more and gazed into his eyes. Kristoff stared into those deep, blue pools, searching for any sign of uncertainty or guilt, but he found nothing of the sort. Instead, all Kristoff could see was adoration, need, willingness, and courage. The want, however, topped it all; there was a desire unlike any he'd ever seen in Anna's eyes, mirrored in the way she softly dragged her hands over his chest.

He desperately wanted to know what had changed her mind. Why, out of the blue, was she ready for this, and with _him_? What had he done to deserve such magic? He soaked it all in before leaning in to her again, settling his hands on her hips.

"It… it's toasted ravioli, by the way," she said suddenly in a throaty whisper.

"What?"

"St. Louis's special food," she clarified. "One of them, anyway. Toasted ravioli…"

Kristoff grinned, and they both laughed heartily. He could feel her anxious body relax in his arms and he pulled her closer, lifting his hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. She was so beautiful, he wanted to cry.

"Anna…" was all he whispered before kissing her again, determined to never, ever let go.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Aaaaaand, we're finally here! Sexytimes! Yay! :) Sorry to cut it off here, but the scene itself just has to be from Anna's POV. Kristoff knows what it's like to enjoy sex, but Anna doesn't, so it'll be more interesting from her perspective, I promise. :) Also, I know this chapter was a bit shorter than recent ones, but it's likely to be that way for a couple more, simply because the POV needs to change a little more frequently now.

Credit where credit is due: The jukebox song the guys are singing is Don McLean's "American Pie." Also, the title of this chapter is borrowed from the film of the same name.

See you all very, very soon! 333 Happy summer!


	21. Hello and Goodbye

**Chapter 21: **_**Hello and Goodbye**_

_**-Anna-**_

Anna still distinctly remembered the day she met Kristoff. She remembered his obvious disdain for her work and the reluctance that came with his agreeing to try it again another day. She remembered the stench he left behind in her office, forcing her to fetch a bottle of Lysol from the supply cabinet and spray the room generously after he was out of eyeshot. She remembered his prompt phone call for a reschedule. Her encounters with him that day could not have lasted more than five minutes.

Somehow, five minutes had led to five months.

All she had wanted was an interview. That was it. Anna had wanted to sit down with a player, ask him some questions, and write about him for the seasonal program. She hadn't been seeking an acquaintance, a friend, a lover. She hadn't gone into that day thinking the subject of her interview would wind up rescuing her idiotic, drunk ass from a crowded bar, or that he'd offer to teach her the game of hockey. She hadn't expected to kiss him on the wharf after an impromptu dinner. She never imagined him taking her on a date, then another, and then countless more. But most of all, Anna had never, ever thought the smelly, rude hockey player who'd walked into office five months ago would be the man she'd bare her body, heart, and soul to.

It had all started in the lobby earlier that evening when Kristoff stopped to talk to her before heading to the pub to join the team. Anna had been desiring Kristoff for quite some time before then, but it had never been so strong. _I'd rather hang out with you_, he's said with an adorable shrug and lopsided smile. While the sentiment was the kindest, most wonderful thing Kristoff could have said in that moment, it was his eyes that did it; those beautiful, chocolate brown eyes, twinkling with admiration and sincerity, told Anna that he truly meant every word, and that did her in. Those few seconds made her certain that was the night she would give herself to him.

Of course, the revelation had not come without its hiccups. Once she arrived in her hotel room, Anna had become flooded with all of the panicky questions she was often plagued with:

_What if he thinks I'm ugly? What if I smell? What if I'm not good at it? What if it hurts? What if I freak out again and that's the last straw for him? What if he doesn't even want me anymore?_

She took a long, hot shower in an attempt to quell her nerves, and it somewhat helped. Every time an uncertainty had flown through her mind, Anna reminded herself that Kristoff cared about her and desired her. She watched some television as a distraction, and a few reruns of _How I Met Your Mother_ did the trick nicely. When she finally checked her phone, she saw a bunch of missed texts from Kristoff and felt instantly guilty. Sighing, she leaned back against her pillows, wondering what to do.

Then, she'd caught sight of her open suitcase. She could see the purple lingerie she'd bought from Whispers lying there, beckoning for her to slip it on. Anna did and glanced at herself in the full-length mirror. Just like the black set had the first time she tried it on, the plum ensemble gave her more confidence than she'd ever had before.

_You're a beautiful woman_, she thought, smiling at her reflection. _You're sexy. You're radiant. Kristoff is going to love what he sees. Anna, you're _so_ gorgeous. Go show it off. Go get him!_

Before she knew it, she was slipping jeans and a t-shirt over the magnificent lingerie before shoving some sneakers on her feet and bolting out the door.

_312_, she'd reminded herself. _He said 312_.

It had taken two muffled inquiries of _are you sure_ and one declaration of _Anna, we don't have to do this _from Kristoff before she was kissing him more passionately than she had earlier in the lobby, melting into his secure hold as he moaned into her mouth. One of his hands wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her body close to his, while the other rested tenderly against her cheek. Anna had both of her arms bound around his torso, allowing her to relish in his tender strength. He smelled deliciously of musk and pine.

For ten minutes this carried on: the two of them standing in Kristoff's hotel room, embracing and kissing, with him growing harder and her pushing herself against him as closely as she could so she could feel it. Eventually, Kristoff dropped his mouth from her lips to her neck, forcing Anna to toss her head back and gasp. Jolts of rapture shot down her spine and she pulled back in a lascivious fog. They pressed their foreheads together as they both breathed heavily, grips tightly remaining on one another.

"Kristoff," she whispered, "I… I haven't… it's been a while since I've done this…"

She felt his lips press gently against her skin before he murmured, "Me, too."

Anna could hear the reassurance and care in his words, as well as the silent promise that he would give just as much as he'd take, and perhaps more. For the first time since they began kissing, she let go of him and took a step back. Without breaking eye contact, she bravely lifted her t-shirt over her head and allowed it to fall to the floor. She looked for signs of Kristoff's disappointment, but all she could see was awe and, if she was reading him properly, a dash of giddiness. She allowed herself to smile, figuring she should have known. Beneath it all, Kristoff was still a red-blooded male, and breasts – even those on the smaller side – tended to have a profound effect on men.

"Whoa," he breathed. "Look at you…"

She could feel herself blushing as she brought her fingertips gingerly to the hem of his shirt, stroking the cotton stitching before gazing up at him, requesting permission. Kristoff brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, and Anna figured that was her green light. She slowly began to lift the white fabric, only she was too short to get it completely over his head by herself; Kristoff had to be the one to give it the final tug.

Just as he'd done with her, Anna gazed for a moment at what she'd just revealed. She was mesmerized by his chest, so strong and tough and blanketed with wisps of dark blond hair. She loved the bumps that made up his shoulders and upper arms, an exquisite result of his years of sport. His abdomen, while undoubtedly fit, was not quite as chiseled as the rest of him; rather, there was a certain softness to it, a subtlety to the physique, and Anna was enchanted by it. Before she realized what she was doing, her hands were on it, softly grazing against his warm skin and slowly working their way up to his pectorals. The moan she elicited from him was barely audible, but it was equally as wonderful to her as the feeling of his body.

Kristoff hooked a finger into one of the center belt loops of her jeans, tugging slightly and beckoning her to come closer. Anna looked down at his hand to his thumb rubbing against the button. When she met his eyes, she could see the question lurking there, to which she responded with a nod and a soft smile. He kissed her as he unfastened the button and pulled down the zipper. Anna assumed she would take care of the rest, but Kristoff surprised her by unhurriedly pushing the garment over her hips and down her legs, kneeling before her as he went. She stepped out of them when her reached her feet and gave them a soft kick to the side.

He placed a kiss on each of her knees, each of her thighs, right below her belly button, below and above the swell of each breast, and her nose, finally settling on her lips after he mumbled something that sounded like _so gorgeous_. Freed from the confines of her clothing, Anna could very easily feel the desire pooling in her lacy underwear, and she vaguely wonder if Kristoff had noticed when his face was five inches from her center. As he held her, his hands found her lower back, a finger settling in each of the dimples that resided there. It seemed very swift, almost as if he'd known they were there.

Anna didn't know who initiated it, but somehow, they were both walking toward the bed – Kristoff backwards, Anna forwards- as they embraced and kissed. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, she could see the bulge concealed by his plaid, blue boxers, which she'd felt erotically pressing into her abdomen merely seconds before. Wanting to have it against her core, she climbed onto his lap, grasping his sturdy shoulders for leverage. Anna found she quite liked the seating arrangement; for the first time, her face was ever so slightly higher than his.

She kissed him as she began to roll her hips against him, and he groaned hungrily as his hands landed on her thighs. The thin, barely-there fabrics of her panties and his boxers, the only barriers separating them, allowed for the most delightful friction, causing her already wanton core to ache in the most delicious way. She gasped when his hands moved to her clothed breasts, followed shortly by his lips, which caressed the bare skin above each lacy purple cup.

When Kristoff pulled his face back, eyes clouded with lust, he met her gaze as he drew in heavy, ravenous breaths. His fingertips began to graze the top of each cup, then very slowly up each strap before going over her shoulders and down. His hands met again at the clasp, which he rubbed delicately, waiting patiently for her consent. Anna felt her hesitancy return for a split second, only to push it away just as quickly.

_You're beautiful_, she reminded herself. _You're a beautiful woman_.

With that, she offered him a small nod. Anna expected Kristoff would shift his stare to her chest, but he kept his eyes locked on hers as he undid the clasp and gently tugged the straps down her arms. As the bra tumbled to the ground, Kristoff kissed her neck as he tenderly fondled her breasts. She allowed a small whimper of gratification as he rolled each stiffened, pink nipple between his fingers. He ever so slowly dragged his kisses from her neck and down her chest.

Kristoff let out a guttural moan when his mouth reached her breasts. He sucked at each, sending ways of pleasure from Anna's breasts straight down to her core. She instinctively rolled her hips against his solid groin again, escalating the growing restlessness of their bodies, the fire growing to an inferno. His heat radiated into her, the sticky sweat of his torso mingling with hers as he pulled their bodies close again, this time by reaching around her and grasping her bottom.

In a swift motion, Kristoff lifted Anna as he stood, and she wrapped her legs around him as he turned them both around. He placed her down on the mattress and stood before her, almost as if he was waiting for her to lay back. But Anna couldn't do that yet, not when they were still clothed. She needed to see the hardness that had been so achingly arousing against her, touch the skin she'd fantasized about for months.

Slowly, she pushed down the waistband of his boxers. Anna admired Kristoff's ability to resist looking when he took off her bra earlier, but she didn't have the capacity to do the same. She couldn't help watching as she moved the cotton garment further down, revealing short, dark blond curls and his fully erect manhood. She lightly gasped when she saw it, for it was even more beautiful than she could have imagined it being. He wasn't enormous, something she'd been worried about and was quite relived to discover was not the case, but was of a respectable length and width, and he had a very slight upward curve.

There was something different about him, though. Thanks to classes and, admittedly, more than a few of her own internet searches, Anna had been led to believe that while sizes varied, all men looked the same. Kristoff, however, seemed to have a little something extra, something soft and delicately nice. It struck her after a few seconds that he was natural and unaltered, and she was mesmerized by it.

"Does… does it bother you?" he asked after a moment.

Anna looked up at him, heart softening when she saw the nerves etched into his face. She wondered if he'd ever gotten weird looks or judgmental comments, either from past lovers or the guys in the locker room. She smiled and shook her head, and gently touched his face before kissing him.

"You're perfect," she whispered before caressing his lips again.

She hadn't realized how tense he'd gotten until she felt him relax beneath her touch. It made Anna feel better to know that Kristoff, a handsome, professional athlete who was admired by many, had insecurities, too. She kissed him all over his chest, relishing in his moans as she stroked his length. Excitement built in her core when she felt the glistening on the tip.

After a couple of minutes, she felt Kristoff softly push against her shoulders, and she obliged by laying back, spreading herself out for him. She trembled as his hands slowly worked up her legs toward her purple panties, the final barrier between them. She lifted her bottom when he began to pull them down, and she watched his eyes follow his motion until she was completely bare before him. Anna bit her lip as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at her, raking his salacious eyes up and down her figure.

"You're so beautiful," he said in a hushed, breathy tone several moments later. "Anna… you…"

"Kristoff…"

"I mean it. Anna… you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She wanted to cry. His face was so genuine as he spoke and his eyes never wavered. Certain her heart would explode if she attempted to speak, she talked with her body instead. Anna held her arms out and parted her thighs, inviting him to join her. She wasn't even scared anymore; in fact, she couldn't even remember what she'd been scared of to begin with.

Anna moaned in delight once Kristoff was beside her, then above her, then kissing her as he ran his hands all over her body. He dragged them over her breasts, down her tummy, and to her dripping center. He slipped one, then two, fingers into her, gently thrusting as he used his other hand to stroke the sensitive nub at the crest of her folds. The intensity of her breathing increased until she was practically panting, incoherently mumbling his name.

"Kri-Kristoff… Krist... please…"

She couldn't take it anymore. She need to feel him inside her, and she hoped her moans were enough for him to understand. They seemed to be, because Kristoff readjusted his body so he was between her open and ready thighs, arms on either side of her shoulders.

"Anna… are you…"

"_Yes._"

With that, Kristoff guided himself into her warm, slick core, eyes fluttering closed as he did so. Anna cringed for just a moment, her body's initial resistance to his very welcome intrusion causing the smallest twinge of pain. It only lasted a few seconds, however, and was immediately replaced by the most gratifying sensation of fulfillment, of completion. It was so new to Anna, so refreshing and satisfying, that she couldn't help but moan as Kristoff moved so swiftly within her. There was something about the way he guided his thrusts that made him hit a special, sweet spot within her, and Anna swore she witnessed heaven every single time.

When she opened her eyes, she really did see heaven. Kristoff, sweaty and muscular, hovered above her, lips wet and eyes hooded in erotic euphoria. His breath ghosted across her heated skin as he leaned down to kiss her. She pawed at his back as their lips and bodies got lost in the dance as old as time itself.

Kristoff moved a hand down to where their bodies were joined, and Anna gasped against his lips when he found her nub again. As he rolled it between his fingers, she wasn't sure she could handle the pleasure. It had been building deep within her, but with each brush of his finger, each drive of his hips, it pushed closer and closer to the surface, and Anna wasn't sure she could hold it in much longer. She'd had orgasms before, but never at the mercy of another person, and for a moment she feared allowing her release in front of Kristoff. She could only imagine how weird she must have looked when it happened.

"Anna…" he began to whimper, "oh, Anna…"

She could feel him begin to very slightly lose his rhythm, and she could see the twisted struggle on his face. Anna knew then that he was waiting for her, that he was holding back his own pleasure so she could have hers. Kristoff thrusted faster, and her hips instinctively rose to meet his. Within seconds, she could feel the floodgates about to burst open, and with one look into Kristoff's eyes, she allowed it to happen.

"Kristoff!" she gasped.

Anna clung to him as her head fell back and her eyes squeezed shut. Her hips involuntarily bucked as wave after wave of the most wonderful ecstasy a woman can ever experience coursed through her entire body – an ecstasy she wanted to hold onto, yet desperately escape. She gasped as her legs quaked and mouth trembled, all with Kristoff's name on her lips, coming out in half in breathy gasps, half in delighted whimpers.

Kristoff followed immediately after. Anna could feel him pulsating within her satiated core, spilling his pleasure into her depths. His arms shook on either side of her head, his sturdiness giving way to the rapture, and it was beautiful. Anna watched Kristoff come undone through hooded eyes, heart bursting with affection with each gasp he made, each quiver of his being.

He hovered above her for several moments after, the aftershocks coursing through them both as their breathing returned to a normal cadence. She ran her fingers up and down his arms while he stroked her hair, pushing strays of red out of her face. When they both opened their eyes and their gazes met, they smiled lazily at each other.

"That was incredible," Kristoff murmured, dragging the pad of his thumb against her pinkened cheek.

"Yeah..."

"Are you okay?"

Anna nodded. "I'm more than okay. Kristoff, I… _wow._"

She meant it. Anna knew her hair was a mess, her makeup was smeared, and she was covered in sweat, but she could not have cared less. She felt more relaxed, sated, and soothed than she ever had in her entire life. It was liberating.

Kristoff rolled off of her, laying on his back beside her and gently rubbing his flushed face. Anna wanted to cuddle up to him but decided he maybe needed a minute to cool down before her hot, sweaty body enveloped his again. Instead, she looked at the white, bumpy ceiling above, glancing over at him every few seconds.

Her worries began to kick in. Surely he should have at least reached for her hand by now, or at least began talking to her. Maybe she was supposed to say something to him? Was she supposed to get dressed and leave? Anna had figured she'd be spending the night with him, but she never considered the possibility of him not wanting her to.

Kristoff was lazily resting a hand on his forehead with his eyes closed when Anna fearfully considered that maybe, now that he'd seen it all and the act was done, she wasn't as pretty as he'd initially thought in the heat of the moment. Perhaps with a clear mind and judgement no longer clouded by horniness, he was beginning to realize just how plain she really was. She protectively pulled one of the strewn covers onto her.

Anna's heart leapt into her throat when she looked over at Kristoff and saw him softly chuckling.

"What?" she whispered anxiously.

"Nothing," Kristoff murmured. "That… that was just so amazing. I can't get over it…"

He reached between their bodies to take hold of her hand, and Anna felt relief wash over her. She felt so silly. Only a cruel, heartless person would think such horrible thoughts after what they'd just shared, and Kristoff was far from being either of those things.

"You have no idea," he continued, squeezing her hand, "how many times I've dreamt of that."

"Really?" she squeaked, heart melting.

"Really. And it was better than I could have hoped for."

Anna smiled, responding by drawing little circles with her thumb on the back of his strong, calloused hand. They were great hands, and she was a little ashamed she'd never noticed until that moment. Of course, now she knew exactly the magic they were capable of. She couldn't wait to feel them between her legs again.

"So, um…" she began, thinking about how to ask of the rest of the night's plans.

Kristoff finally opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm just wondering if… I mean, I'll gladly stay, but I won't be offended if you want me to leave. I know you have a game tomorrow to rest for, and-"

"Anna," Kristoff murmured, "of course I want you to stay."

"You do?"

"Yes," he breathed, opening his arms. "C'mere…"

Anna smiled and scooted over to join him, settling into the side of his body. His skin had cooled considerably, but he was still deliciously warm and cozy as he settled back against his pillow, allowing Anna to rest her head upon his chest. She threw an arm across his torso and, almost on instinct, lifted one of her legs across his body to entangle it with his. She sighed in bliss as he stroked her upper arm, the soft scratch of his fingernails unbelievably relaxing. Meanwhile, he looped his other arm around her lower back, and again his fingers settled into her dimples.

Anna giggled. "You really like those, don't you?"

"What?"

"My dimples."

"Oh… yeah. I have for a while."

"What?" she queried, lifting her head slightly with a curious smirk.

"Nothing," he muttered sheepishly.

"No, tell me! How'd you know about them?" she implored giddily. "I want to know!"

"Nothing," he repeated again, though he couldn't hide the smile spreading across his lips. "I just… I saw them once…"

"_When?_ Oh, was it when you brought me home from the bar? Oh, god, Kristoff, did I flash you?!"

"No!" Kristoff laughed. "And how would I have seen your dimples if you'd flashed me? Now, if you'd _mooned_ me…"

"You know what I meant," Anna whined. "Don't change the subject."

"Alright, fine. Remember the first time we played hockey? You dropped your helmet on your way off the ice, and when you bent over… yeah."

"Oh, god, how embarrassing…"

"Why? It was hot," Kristoff admitted.

"Did… did you see my butt crack?" she whispered.

Kristoff laughed. "No, but I certainly wouldn't have minded if I did."

"Kristoff!"

"What? You've got quite the derriere, darling," he sang, moving his hand from her dimples to her bottom to give it a squeeze.

"_Kristoff!"_ Anna giggled, though she was internally screaming with joy. "Oh, my god!"

"You'd kill me if you found out how many times I've thought about that butt, or just watched you walk away."

"Is that what you were doing that day? When I picked up my helmet?"

"Mhm. Thought about that view for many, many days afterward."

"Oh, really?" she said playfully. "Do tell."

"Tell you what?"

"How about this," Anna suggested. "We each tell a dirty little fantasy we've had about one another."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Fine," he agreed, "but only because I'm curious about what you have to say."

"Okay, you first!"

"Uh-uh! You started this, beautiful!"

"Fine," Anna said. "The showers in the locker room."

Kristoff began to drag his hand up and down her back, but never straying too far from her dimples.

"What about the showers?" he asked in a husky whisper.

Anna took a deep breath, core warming up again as she thought about all the times she'd touched herself to the thought of Kristoff fucking her under the steady stream of water.

"I… I like to think about sneaking in there with you after you've practiced or played," she confessed.

"Go on." He pulled her closer.

"Well, I… I guess I imagine myself surprising you. I tear open the curtain and you're already naked, so… so I strip down for you. And then we… yeah. Against the wall. You lift me up."

Arousal was pooling between her thighs again. The fact that she could feel Kristoff reawakening against her leg wasn't helping matters.

"Do I?"

"Y-yeah.

"My, my, Miss Arendelle. How unprofessional," he growled cheekily. "I love it."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Y-you're turn," she stammered.

"I like to dream of that day on the ice, when I saw your sexy little dimples. Yes, they're freaking sexy," he added before she could even open her mouth to scoff. "I think of following you into the penalty box and bending you over the bench. I like to think of smacking your ass before slamming you from behind."

"Oh, my…" Anna breathed.

"You like that?"

"Y-yes." She was quite flustered as she admitted it, as she'd never thought she'd be into rougher sex. But the way Kristoff described it…

"I, um…"

"Hm?"

"I wouldn't mind trying that someday," she whispered.

"Really?"

"Really. I'd… I'd even wear one of your jerseys… if you wanted."

"Mm," he groaned. He was fully erect now, and his hand was hungrily stroking her bottom. "That's so damn sexy, you know that?"

"I… I think about having you in my office," she blurted out. "On my desk."

Kristoff grinned. "I think of pulling you into one of the supply closets."

"On the red carpet we pull onto the ice sometimes…"

"In the players' gym on the bench…"

"In my apartment…"

"In _my_ apartment, on every single piece of furniture I own…"

"Kristoff," she gasped when his fingers found her dripping center.

"Anna," he hummed, "I'm thinking about doing you again right here, right this second."

Anna smiled. "Me, too."

They made love three more times that night before falling asleep together in a warm, satisfied heap of tangled limbs and blankets. Anna dreamed happily, never before feeling so safe, so connected, so happy, and – dare she think it – so loved.

* * *

Anna woke with a yawn and lazy stretch the following morning. A tiny bit of sunlight was visible around the thick curtains Kristoff had drawn, but other than that, the room was dark. If it weren't for the bedside clock reading 7:08, she would have assumed it was still nighttime.

Eyes closed again, she reached to her right for Kristoff, only he wasn't there. Instead, Anna's hand was greeted with the soft, crinkled sheet he'd slept upon. She felt like she needed to pee, but figuring he was already using the bathroom, she allowed her head to tumble back down to her cozy pillow and await his return.

She grew concerned when five minutes went by without so much as the sound of running water. Anna sat up and wrapped one of the sheets around her naked body before walking to the bathroom. It was dark and empty, and there was no Kristoff.

_Where did he go?_ she wondered. _Maybe down to the lobby store for toothpaste?_

But that couldn't have been it, as she spotted a tube of toothpaste beside the bathroom sink. Before she even allowed herself to think maybe he'd needed a toothbrush, she saw that, too. Anna stepped in and touched the bristles. They were wet, so he'd just brushed his teeth not too long ago. He'd showered, too; water droplets coated the shower curtain and there was a wet towel on the floor.

Anna stepped back into the main part of the hotel room and looked around. The clothing she'd removed from Kristoff's body the night before had been picked up off the floor. His wallet, room key, and cell phone, which she remembered seeing on the nightstand, were gone, too. Anna walked to her side of the bed to get her own phone. She opened it eagerly, but there were no messages from Kristoff.

_He must have been thirsty or something_, she thought, remembering the vending machine down the hall. _He'll be back in a minute._

Anna sat on the bed and waited for Kristoff to come back, but once five minutes went by, then ten, then fifteen, her body began to shake with shame. She'd convinced herself the previous night that that there was no possible way her fears would come true; Kristoff was too good for that. But with each passing minute, it seemed more and more probable that what they'd shared meant nothing to him.

_He doesn't want you_, she thought, eyes stinging with tears. _He doesn't want you…_

She thought of everything she did wrong. She should have worn the black lingerie; black was sexier. She should have worn perfume. She should have completely shaved her crotch instead of only trimming it short. As she ran her hands nervously down her legs, she felt a smidge of stubble on her left shin; she'd missed a spot.

_He probably thinks you're disgusting. You probably smelled. You probably grossed him out. He probably thinks you don't take care of yourself. He… no, Anna. You're his girlfriend. He would never…_

It was then Anna was struck with the realization that Kristoff had never once called her his girlfriend. They'd gone on dates and made out a lot, but they'd never gone so far as to define the relationship. He could have been seeing dozens of other women for all she knew.

To make matters worse, she thought of Hans in that moment, every horrible critique he'd made punching her in her already aching heart.

_Too pale. Too freckly. Too dainty. Awful hips. Flat tits. Too girly. Grow up. Sometimes, you make me so mad that you're just something for me to fuck._

That was always the worst part. She was something for him to fuck. Some_thing_. There were moments Hans didn't even view her as a person, but rather an object he could use for kicks. She'd since sworn she'd never allow herself to be treated like that, yet there she was, crying, naked, and alone. She'd fallen for the charms of a handsome man yet again.

_You're so stupid, Anna. You're such a fool. He's probably laughing about you with the team right now. Probably won some sort of bet. "Who can nail Adgar's dumb, naïve daughter first?" _

She thought she'd been doing better. She had been so careful about letting her guard down, and that was what hurt the most. Deep in her heart, she had truly thought Kristoff cared about her and wanted to be with her, and there was still part of her that wanted to believe it was true. She wanted to believe she was merely overthinking things and overreacting. But how could she be when the evidence was so plain? Kristoff vanished the morning after she slept with him, leaving her in his bed without so much as a text message or voicemail. What else could that possibly mean?

In spite of everything, she still cared for him. For a split second, she wanted to go find him and plead with him.

_Please_, she wanted to say, _Kristoff_, _come back. Be with me. I'll do anything…_

Anna shook her head and wiped her eyes. No. She would not be that desperate, lovesick girl again. She may have embarrassed herself by thinking she and Kristoff had something special, but she would not allow herself to sink to the level of pure humiliation. Never again.

Eyes still teary, she got up and began to collect her clothes, determined to be long gone before Kristoff returned.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Don't kill me! I promise there's an explanation. :)

...okay, fine, kill me. I'd probably kill me, too.

Nonetheless, thanks a ton for reading! :) I'll be revisiting my canonverse storyline for the KSS Exchange over on Tumblr, but I'll get back to this very, very quickly, because I can't wait for what's coming up. See you all real soon! :)


	22. Presidents Day

**Chapter 22: **_**Presidents Day**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

Kristoff caught himself staring at the numbers above the elevator door again, getting more and more annoyed with whoever was holding it up on the third floor. The savory smell of his breakfast sandwich was teasing his nose and making his stomach growl impatiently; he just wanted to get upstairs and scarf the thing down. If he wasn't carrying the coffee tray and the bag, he would have unwrapped it right then and there and been finished by the time he got back to Anna.

Just as the elevator began moving again, his cellphone dinged in his pocket. He managed to fish it out without dropping anything, grinning when he saw a message from Dimitri waiting for him:

_Meet Zachary! Born 6:52pm. 6lbs., 5oz. He and Tatyana are fine!_

The message was followed by a photo of a sleeping newborn with round, rosy cheeks and tufts of dark hair. He was a very handsome baby, which wasn't surprising considering who his parents were. While Kristoff was never one to fawn over babies or find them endlessly fascinating the way some people did, he was thrilled for his friends.

The elevator opened then, and out stepped a messy-haired, droopy-eyed Troy.

"Christ, would it kill you to look in a mirror?" Kristoff quipped. "You look like hell."

"I _feel_ like hell," he groaned. "I had one too many last night."

"Ten too many, by the looks of it."

"Fuck off."

Had Dimitri been there, he was certain Troy would have been the recipient of a lecture on responsibility and professionalism. In fact, he could practically hear it: _How dare you drink so much the night before a game?!_ Dimitri would chastise. _You're a professional who is paid to be committed to the sport! This could cost us the game! What were you thinking?!_

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Once I grab some breakfast, I'll be all set. They got anything good down there?"

"Don't know. I went down the street."

"So I see."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow, then frowned when he saw Troy smirking. His friend had caught sight of the two coffee cups from the café.

"Don't you start," Kristoff warned.

"Start what?" Troy asked, still grinning as sauntered by. "See you in a couple hours."

Kristoff rolled his eyes, stepped onto the elevator, and thought only of Anna on his short ride up and subsequent walk to his room. He hadn't been able to bring himself to wake her that morning despite how much he'd wanted to; she just looked too beautiful, too peaceful, and he couldn't disturb that. Instead, he'd planted a kiss on her forehead, pulled the blanket up to her shoulders to cover her chest (after a quick peek, of course), and got ready for his day as quietly as possible.

As he dove his hand into his pocket for his key, he wondered if she'd still be asleep. At that point, he'd have to wake Anna up, because he had a pre-game meeting to get to and she likely would want to return to her room and tidy up before checking out. If she was still asleep, though, Kristoff wouldn't have blamed her in the slightest. They'd had quite a night, after all, and it was one he would not soon forget. Kristoff was sure the images of her glistening body and the sounds of her passion would be delightfully rooted in his memory for the foreseeable future.

With a goofy smile still plastered to his face, he quickly swiped the card key in and out of the slot and pushed open the door. Anna was already awake, thankfully, but his face fell when he saw the frazzled look in her eyes. She'd whipped around toward the door at the sound of it opening as she buttoned her jeans, seemingly the last thing she needed to do before bolting. That's what it appeared she was preparing to do, anyway.

"Anna?" he queried, setting the items from the café on the table. "What's wrong?"

"Kristoff," she breathed, looking anywhere but at him. "Good… um, good morning."

"What's wrong?" he repeated. "You're crying."

"No, I'm not."

"Well, you were," he said, walking over to her. "What happened? Are you sick?"

"No. I… I'm okay."

"Then what is it?" he implored gently. "Anna, please tell me."

She shook her head and gazed at the floor. "It's nothing. I just… I didn't know where you were, and-"

"You didn't see my note?"

"Note?" Anna asked, finally looking at him. "What note?"

"I left it on the table by the door," Kristoff said. He turned to where he'd placed the morning's breakfast. Sure enough, the note he'd quickly jotted down on hotel stationary wasn't there. He did, however, spot a piece of paper sticking out from behind the television stand; the breeze from opening and closing the door must have sent it flying. Frowning, Kristoff looked to Anna, whose lower lip was trembling.

"Anna-"

"I'm sorry," she quivered. "I didn't see it, and when you weren't here, I just figured…"

"Figured what?" Kristoff asked. "That I just took off?"

"Well, yeah," Anna mumbled.

"Anna… c'mon," he scowled. "Really?"

"What?"

"Look, I know you've been through some stuff, but can't you give me a little credit?"

He felt a little sorry when her face fell, but he didn't regret saying it. Kristoff was surprised by how much her assumption hurt him. Still, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I didn't mean it like that," he amended. "I just… Anna, I wish you could see I'm not that guy. I don't know what else I can do to prove that to you."

"No, Kristoff, I know you aren't. I know that."

"Then why would you think that? Why wouldn't you at least give me the benefit of the doubt and assume I'd just gone out to… well, get breakfast?" he asked, gesturing to the table.

"I don't know," Anna relented, shaking her head in shame. "It's not like you were obligated to stay or anything. I'm not… we aren't… I'm not your girlfriend, so…"

"Oh…"

Kristoff didn't really know what to say to that. He wracked his brain for past indication that what he and Anna had been sharing for the last few months wasn't an exclusive thing. After countless dates and kisses, not to mention the previous evening, he'd thought it was safe to assume they were a couple. What had he missed?

Anna must have read the hurt on his face. Her face softened as she looked at him, though she didn't say anything, silently requesting elaboration.

"These past few months… I mean, I just sort of figured we were having such a good time," he said lamely with a shrug.

"Oh, Kristoff, we have," Anna breathed. "We really have. It's… well, nothing was ever said. I don't know. I guess I just didn't know if you were seeing other people…"

"I'm not seeing anyone else," he confirmed quickly. "Are… are you?"

Panic consumed him for a split second. What if she _was_ dating other people? He had no claim on her, after all. But then, her lips curved into a soft smile, a smile he'd missed so much in the few hours since he'd seen it last.

"No," she whispered.

They gazed at each other then, lost in one another's face before gently embracing. Kristoff knew what he wanted to say; it was rising within him like lyrics did when his favorite song came on the radio. But it was too soon for that, he knew, and everything was too perfect in that moment. It could wait.

"Anna," he murmured, "I… I really, _really_ like you."

She giggled. "I really, _really_ like you, too."

"I don't want to see anyone else."

"Me, neither."

Kristoff pulled back just enough so he could properly look at her, brushing a hand against her cheek as he spoke.

"Only you," he said.

She nodded and smiled. "Only you."

They both grinned, and Kristoff started to lean in for a kiss.

"Kristoff," Anna murmured, shying away, "I… I have morning breath…"

He smirked and muttered a muffled "I don't care" before planting his lips on hers. Before long, the hunger in his belly was masked by a new hunger that only Anna could ignite as of late, one he desperately wanted to satiate but knew he did not have the time to properly do so. Against his heart's wishes, Kristoff pulled back, opting to rest his forehead against hers and coyly rub her hips.

"Good morning," he breathed.

"Good morning."

"I… had an amazing time last night."

"Lucky. Mine was okay."

"Wow..."

"I'm kidding!" Anna chuckled. "It was incredible."

"You'd tell me if you didn't like it, right?" he asked seriously. "Because Anna, I want to make sure-"

"Kristoff," she asserted, "it was _wonderful_. Really. I would not be opposed to a repeat."

He rasied an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, then," he hummed, "this away stretch just got a little more bearable."

"Now, now, Bjorgman, one step at a time," she laughed. "Priorities. This lady hasn't eaten since lunch yesterday, so-"

"The sub!" he exclaimed. "Ah, damn it, Anna, I'm sorry. I'd saved you part of my sandwich yesterday, but…"

"But we were a little preoccupied? No worries."

"Still, you must be starving."

"Which is why I'm ever so grateful that you brought up some breakfast. Thank you."

"It's only sandwiches," he muttered lamely. "Sorry. I was going to go to the lobby but a few of the guys were already down there. They probably had a much better selection."

"Oh, Kristoff, stop. That's more than enough."

"Good. And I hate to rush, but we'd better hurry. Well, you take as long as you want, of course, but I've got to get downstairs soon."

"I know," Anna hummed. She then placed a kiss on his cheek before gazing at him. "I'm sorry," she said seriously.

"Sorry? What for?"

"For assuming you left," she sighed. "I knew in my heart it wasn't true. Honestly, I did. You've been nothing but kind to me since we met. I just let my nerves get the better of me, and… anyway, I'm really sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"Hey, it's okay," Kristoff said with a smile. "It's in the past."

"It's not _okay_," Anna countered, "but if you're fine with forgetting about it, then so am I."

"Hm. Something tells me I'll have a hard time ever forgetting this morning…," he said playfully, "or last night…"

Anna laughed. "Me, too."

* * *

Though statistics may have disagreed, Kristoff thought that the game he played against St. Louis was one of the best of his career. Sure, he only scored one goal and assisted in another, but he still felt like his technique and focus were really on point that afternoon. In fact, he'd been on fire for nearly the entire stretch. It was even better when Dimitri rejoined the team in Colorado, where they crushed the Avalanche with a five point lead. They won six of their eight games while on the road, leaving them in good shape for their return home.

Kristoff knew Anna was a primary cause in his sudden surge in proficiency on the ice. There was just something about playing a game while knowing he'd be joining up with his girlfriend immediately after, either in his room or hers, for the perfect way to end the day. In the nights following St. Louis, Kristoff quickly discovered that Anna had quite the sexual appetite; she wanted it every night they could. Knowing what she'd previously felt about such acts, he couldn't help but feel a bit proud of himself.

Valentine's Day passed with no recognition, as it had fallen right in the middle of the away stretch. It was a shame, because Kristoff had wanted to do something special for Anna, but there was just no time to do it justice. Anna didn't seem to mind; in fact, she appeared to not even notice the holiday had arrived. It came, went, and was essentially forgotten.

It was why Kristoff was determined to make Presidents Day as romantic as possible. The holiday that people only remembered because of car dealership commercials and the fact that it gave them a day off work just happened to be their first full day after returning home from the stretch. He invited her to his place for dinner, and he wanted everything to be perfect. Though Anna had told him she would have been happy with snacks and a movie, Kristoff insisted on cooking, excited to finally be able to show off his kitchen skills. She was finally going to meet Sven. He would finally be able to show her his bedroom. The thought made him dizzy with delight.

He was at the stove when the buzzer rang. Sven, nearby as always, jumped at the noise and proceeded to follow Kristoff to the door. Kristoff held down the button for the speaker, told her to come on up, and waited until he heard her coming down the hallway. He opened the door before she even had a chance to knock.

"Hey," he breathed.

"Hi," Anna squeaked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I hope I'm not too early…"

"Nonsense! Please, come in…"

Kristoff stepped aside, and Anna dropped her bag on the ground so she could properly greet Sven, who was running low on patience. Sven's tail was going crazy as he nuzzled into Anna's side, and all the latter could do was giggle and repeatedly declare how cute he was.

"He likes you," Kristoff said happily.

"Oooh, and I like him, too!" Anna sang, kneeling. "Hi, Sven! Yes, I'm so happy to meet you, too, finally! Aaaw, who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?! Oh, you're so soft!" She looked up at Kristoff. "Is he part husky?"

"He has to be. I think he's part German shepherd, too."

"Oh, no matter what he is, he's so darn cute! And so _friendly_! Wow!"

"Well, he has heard an awful lot about you."

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, straightening up to give him a hug.

"Probably too much."

They pulled apart after a quick kiss, and Kristoff couldn't help but look at the bag she'd brought along. It wasn't quite a duffel bag, but it was rather large for a purse. Anna seemed to catch him looking.

"It's… well, it's an overnight bag," she offered sheepishly. "I guess I just figured… you know. Do you mind?"

Kristoff grinned. "Not in the slightest."

Anna smiled, inhaling deeply. "Mm! It smells amazing in here! What are you making?"

"C'mon, I'll show you."

He led her to the kitchen, and gave the sauce a few stirs before offering a spoonful for her to try.

"What is it?"

"Bearnaise sauce. It's for the steak."

"Kristoff," Anna said with a smile, "you didn't have to…"

"Of course I did. It's your favorite."

"I know, but I do eat other things."

"Are you upset?"

"Of course not!"

"Good," Kristoff said. "Now try this."

With his right hand hovering below to catch any drips, Kristoff guided the spoon to her lips, eyeing her reaction as she took a taste. He beamed with pride when he saw her eyes flutter closed.

"Mmm," she sighed. "Kristoff, that tastes like heaven! How'd you make it?"

"A chef never reveals his secrets."

"Good thing you're a hockey player and not a chef."

"Hey!" he chortled. "Though you do have a point."

"Yeah. Although I must admit… it's pretty sexy that you cook."

Kristoff, who'd returned his attention back to the stove, looked over his shoulder.

"What's that?" he asked cheekily. "You think I'm sexy?"

"Hey, now, I never said that. I just said it was sexy that you cook. Never said anything about _you_ being sexy, mister!"

Kristoff whirled around, lifted her up, and planted her bum on the edge of the counter, settling his hips between her knees. He wrapped his hands around her lower back and pulled her against him.

"Am I sexy now?" he growled, lips inches from hers.

"Mhm," she hummed contently before stealing a kiss. "So sexy."

The kiss turned into quite a passionate exchange that lasted for a bit longer that was probably safe. It was the food on the stove top and in the oven that made Kristoff reluctantly pull away; dinner wasn't going to tend to itself, and it wouldn't do to burn down his apartment building.

"I'm so happy you're here," he murmured.

"Me, too," Anna agreed. "Thank you for having me."

"Want some wine?"

"Sure."

After checking on the steaks and potatoes, Kristoff opened a new bottle of pinot noir and poured a generous amount into a pair of wine glasses. After handing one to Anna, he held his up slightly as if her were toasting.

"Happy Presidents Day," he said.

"Happy Presidents Day," she repeated, clinking her glass against his.

* * *

As anticipated, Kristoff found himself in bed with Anna late that night, snuggled with her beneath a quilt. He lazily traced his fingers up and down her recently loved skin as he gazed at her, soaking in her beauty. While the lovemaking itself was certainly something to be revered, he was finding that he equally enjoyed the afterglow. Kristoff loved being naked with her not in the sense of not having any clothes on, but in a state where they were both bared and vulnerable. For the umpteenth time, he wondered how he'd gotten so lucky.

He thought about what the next few days would bring. There was a home game tomorrow, but after that was three days off. As long as the weather cooperated, Kristoff would be driving up to New Hampshire for a short retreat. His plan that evening had been to ask Anna if she wanted to accompany him, but they'd been so engrossed in talking about everything under the sun during dinner that he'd completely forgotten to do so. Now seemed as good a time as any, he figured, and he brushed a tender hand against her warm cheek.

"Hey," he murmured.

"Hey."

"I like this. A lot."

"Mm," she hummed, "me, too."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you have plans during the mini break, after tomorrow?"

"Well, I'm supposed to work, but I do have personal time I can use. Why? Did you have something in mind?"

"Actually, yeah," Kristoff said. "You see, I was going to head home for a night or two – New Hampshire, I mean – and I was thinking… well, how would you feel about coming with me?"

Anna's eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I mean… it's quiet up there, especially in winter, so there's not a ton of stuff to do. But it is relaxing, and you could finally see my house. Not to mention, Brenda keeps asking when she and Cliff will get to meet you, and-"

"Wait," Anna said with a smile, lifting her head from the pillow, "you want me to meet your family?"

"Well, not the_ whole_ family," Kristoff chuckled. "It'd be impossible to get them all there on such short notice. But Brenda and Cliff really want to meet you. Would you be okay with that?"

"Oh, Kristoff, of course!" she exclaimed. "I'd love to come!"

"Really? You would?"

"Yes! Kristoff, how could you think I wouldn't want to?"

"I don't know. I just figured since we're keeping things quiet around here for now, you might be a little hesitant to-"

"Oh, stop. This is different! I'm so excited! I just hope they like me…"

He grabbed her hand. "They're going to _love_ you. Trust me."

Anna giggled and pressed her lips to his, not taking long to lift a leg so she could straddle him. Kristoff drew in deep breaths as she brought her mouth to his neck, sucking away at the special little spot she'd learned sent waves of euphoria to every nerve in his body.

"An-Anna-" he gasped.

His readiness didn't take long, and Anna was more than happy to indulge his need. As soon as she was able to, she glided her core onto him, and her warm slickness repeatedly sliding against him was the most welcome of sensations. Kristoff gripped her hips as she rode him, and he savored the sight of her eager body and bounching breasts bathed in the moonlight pouring through the curtains.

Kristoff could feel his end draw near far too soon, though it was to be expected after recent, similar activity. Not willing to leave her behind, he brought his left hand to her core and worked his magic against her nub, not giving up until he heard the now familiar cry of her bliss. He watched in amazement and pride as she tossed her head back and gasped his name, and only then did he allow himself to let go.

"Anna," he groaned, "Anna, mm…"

They fell asleep not long after that. Kristoff was roused from his slumber around two in the morning, and smiled tiredly when the first thing he saw was Anna. She was a mess, of course, with her hair everywhere and her arms twisted in a way that Kristoff couldn't believe she found comfortable. Her mouth was hanging open and she was snoring slightly.

_And she's the most beautiful woman in the world_, he thought happily.

Kristoff dragged a hand against her cheek, careful not to wake her (though he knew there was little chance of that happening). He'd been dreaming about her. He didn't remember exactly what the dream entailed, but he knew it must have been a happy one; why else would he have trouble believing he was actually awake and not still dreaming?

"I love you," he whispered to her sleeping form.

After knowing it for several weeks and feeling it for probably more, it felt good to finally vocalize the sentiment, even if she couldn't hear him. Kristoff would keep it that way for a while; he'd tell her, _really _tell her, when the time was right.

Kristoff liked to think he was seeing a small piece of his future in that moment. He wanted it to be this he'd wake up to every morning years down the road. He wanted to plant kisses on her hand right beside a ring. He wanted to patter down the hall to check on the children. Never before had Kristoff wanted such things. When he first began to realize he did, he was resentful. That wasn't the case anymore; instead, he silently prayed that one day it would all come to fruition.

He was so excited to know he'd be bringing her to his hometown. Somehow, that felt like the first big step toward getting to the future he was dreaming of.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry this chapter is so _meh_. It's kind of a filler chapter, I'll admit, and it's a bridge to bigger and better things. I hope this didn't put you off. Or maybe I'm just overthinking as I always do? Idk lol.

Thanks for reading!


	23. Franconia

**Chapter 23: **_**Franconia**_

_**-Anna-**_

Kristoff's hometown almost didn't seem real to Anna. She'd never really known anyone who had grown up in a small town, so despite having visited some in the past, they'd always felt like some sort of fantasy world. Though they had only driven through the center of Franconia once, she could tell it was quaint and quiet. She could imagine it being used on a postcard as an image for a classic New England town. The main road was lined with mom and pop shops and little family-owned diners; there was no McDonald's or Walmart or anything of the sort. Even the grocery store they'd stopped at to pick up a few essentials was not of the chain variety; rather, it was an independent market run by Mr. Branson who, according to Kristoff, lived on Evergreen Hill Road and owned four horses.

All things considered, she should have felt immensely relaxed in such an environment, but Anna was growing anxious as they drove through town again. After briefly stopping at Kristoff's home (a beautiful one she couldn't wait to see more of) to drop off the groceries, they were making their way to Brenda and Cliff's house. She was sure she had nothing to fear, but still… this would be her first time truly in Kristoff's world. She was finally going to get to see a part of his life he'd never shown her before. It was both exciting and terrifying, and Anna wasn't sure what to expect.

"You nervous?" Kristoff asked, seemingly reading her mind as he turned onto a street called Auburn Terrace.

"A little," Anna admitted, offering him a small smile.

"Don't be. They're wonderful people."

"I'm sure they are, but…"

"But…?"

"What if they don't like me?" she mewled.

"Nonsense! Why would you say that?"

"I don't know. I have a habit of putting people off, I guess."

"Oh, stop. It's going to be fine, I promise."

Anna deeply inhaled as Kristoff turned into the driveway of a little blue house with a white porch. She was again reminded of a postcard and of just how different Kristoff's youth had been from her own. For a moment, she felt like she didn't belong there, until Kristoff took her hand after turning off the engine.

"Hey," he said, "I'd be scared, too. I already know your family, but I know I'm going to be terrified the first day I spend time with them outside of team functions. You've never even _met_ my family, so I can only imagine how nervous you must be. But Anna, I promise you have nothing to worry about, okay? They're so excited to meet you, and trust me, they're going to adore you. How could they not?"

He leaned in for a quick kiss, which Anna gladly accepted. A simple touch, hug, or kiss was sometimes all it took to remind her that she was safe with Kristoff; he'd never deliberately do something to harm her or make her miserable. They held hands as they walked to the front door, Sven trotting happily behind them. She wasn't sure why, but for some reason she'd been expecting Kristoff to knock, so she was mildly surprised when he opened the door and led her right in.

"Brenda? Cliff?" he announced as they stepped into a cozy-looking living room. "We're here!"

"Hello!" came a giddy voice from the next room over, presumably the kitchen. Within seconds, a woman who was slightly shorter than Anna and had greying-brown hair stepped into the living room, beaming as she made her way over to them. "Kristoff!" she exclaimed with her arms wide open.

"Hi, Brenda," Kristoff said, smiling as he embraced her.

"Oh, it's so good to have you home, my boy! It's been too long!"

"You always say that," Kristoff laughed.

"That's because it's always true!" Brenda cheerfully countered as she pulled away. She turned to Anna then, clasping her hands together and grinning.

"And you must be Anna," she declared. "I've heard so much about you! It's so wonderful to finally meet you, my dear."

"It's nice to meet you, too!" Anna chirped, holding out a hand. Brenda, however, waved it away and opened up her arms.

"We hug in this house!" she laughed. "Come here, sweetheart! Welcome!"

She caught Kristoff's eye for a moment, and he just grinned and shrugged. Anna chuckled and embraced his second mom. Brenda held her tightly, and for a second Anna felt like she couldn't breathe, but that was okay. The woman gave a good hug: tender, welcoming, and full of love.

"Oh, you're even prettier than in the picture!"

"Picture?" Anna queried, glancing at Kristoff.

"From trivia night, down in Tampa," Kristoff reminded her. "The one Mateev took?"

"Oh, wow!" Anna laughed. "I forgot about that. You know, I never actually saw it. You'll have to show me later."

"Oh, it's adorable!" Brenda chimed in. "Now, are you two hungry? I just took some dumplings out of the oven. C'mon, and tell me all about your trip!"

Anna looked at Kristoff as Brenda plodded into the next room. Kristoff was grinning at her, and she couldn't help but smile, too. He took her hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"See?" he whispered. "Nothing to worry about."

* * *

They had dinner shortly after Cliff came home from work, and it became immediately evident to Anna from whom Kristoff learned to cook so well. Brenda had whipped up an exquisite meal of roasted chicken with all the fixings, followed by the most decadent and delicious triple chocolate cake Anna had ever tasted. Conversation had been lighthearted and filled with laughs, and by the end of the meal, Anna already felt like she'd known Brenda and Cliff for years. In fact, she felt so welcome and accepted in their home that she didn't even bat an eye when Cliff asked Kristoff to accompany him on a quick trip to the store for more firewood, leaving her alone with Brenda.

"Thank you so much for your help with the dishes, Anna," Brenda said as she brought two mugs of hot tea to the table. "You didn't have to. You're a guest!"

"Oh, it was no trouble at all. It's the least I could do to repay you for such an amazing meal. You're a fantastic cook! I can see where Kristoff learned it all from."

"Ah, so he's cooked for you, then?"

"Yes."

"And has he given you flowers?"

Anna giggled. "Yeah, a few times."

"Good," Brenda declared with a satisfied smile and a nod. "I'm happy to hear it."

Anna smiled and brought the mug to her lips, blowing on it slightly before taking sip. She sighed contently; there was nothing like a soothing cup of tea.

"He's always been a good boy," Brenda continued. "Ever since the day we met him. So polite and well-mannered. He deserves to be so much angrier than he is. Strong guy, that one."

"I know. If I lost my mom that young, I'd have been a wreck."

Brenda nodded. "His mom, the Fischers… he went through a lot, the poor thing."

Anna cocked her head the side. "The Fischers?"

The moment she said it, Anna remembered their first date, when Kristoff had mentioned another family he'd lived with. He hadn't wanted to talk about it. _It's a long story_, he had said. Meanwhile, Brenda's face fell.

"Ah. He hasn't told you about them, then, has he?"

"He's mentioned them once, I think. Never really said anything about them. He lived with them before he came here, right?"

"Right. He'll fill you in one day, I expect."

Anna wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Her stomach churned as she studied Brenda's face; the woman looked unsettled and even a bit angry. Horrible as it was, Anna hoped that maybe the Fischers had been wonderful to Kristoff and that they'd died in some sort of freak accident. She hated the idea of Kristoff losing more loved ones, but it was far better than the alternative. Anna, too, felt the bile rise within her at the thought of the other possibility. She wasn't unaware of the way some unlucky foster kids were treated.

"Do you happen to have any pictures of Kristoff?" Anna asked. "From when he was younger, I mean. I know he only met you when he eleven, but-"

"Oh, yes!" Brenda exclaimed, clapping her hands together. This made Anna smile; she'd asked in an attempt to lighten the mood in addition to her insatiable curiosity about Kristoff's youth. Brenda jumped from her seat and bustled into one of the rooms down the hall, returning a minute later with a photo album. "I'm so happy you asked. I just finished putting this together not too long ago. Of course, I was so excited about it that I started filling it with the most recent photos first; didn't realize until I was halfway done that I probably should have gone the other way. Even still, some of them are out order… or reverse order, I should say. Oh, it doesn't matter. Here! Take a look!"

Anna laughed as Brenda shoved the album across to her. She eagerly opened it, and almost gasped to see her father in the first photograph; Kristoff was wearing a jersey and shaking his hand.

"That's the day he got signed," Brenda said.

Anna nodded. "I know. I just… never mind."

"I know that's your dad."

Anna blushed. "He told you that part?"

"Yes, but don't worry, dear. Your secret is safe with me!"

Anna giggled and continued turning the pages. There were a couple shots of him playing on an amateur team, sitting in Brenda and Cliff's family room playing games with extended family members, and posing with Sven when he was a puppy. She stopped when she came to a picture of Kristoff in a tux, standing beside a brown-haired girl in a blue dress. A prom photo, she assumed.

"Is this Marissa?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes. He's told you about her, then?"

"Just a little."

"I'll be honest: I contemplated not putting that in there. But she was a big part of his life for a while, and he's just so darn handsome in that picture."

"Yeah, he is. And she's very pretty."

"She is," Brenda agreed. "And truth be told, she was a lovely girl, except for the whole breaking-my-boy's-heart thing. But, I suspect there's a reason for everything." Her eyes smiled at Anna when she said this, and Anna could feel warmth in her heart.

She continued to flip through the album, watching Kristoff seemingly get younger with each turn of the page. He evidently went through a long hair phase in his freshman year of high school, as there were several shots where his blond locks almost touched his shoulders. It surprised her how thin he appeared when he was about thirteen; he'd definitely filled out his broad frame in the years since. Anna's face fell, however, after a few more pages; there were a couple of pictures where Kristoff appeared almost ghostlike, and the smiles he donned seemed sad and forced. Brenda apparently noticed Anna's dismay.

"He was so skinny when he met him, the poor thing," Brenda sighed. "I still remember it like it was only last week."

"He said he was brought to you for… um… for an emergency placement," Anna said cautiously. Though she did not ask anything, she was hoping for Brenda to elaborate.

Brenda nodded. "I'm not sure if Kristoff told you, but Cliff and I never had children of our own. We wanted to, but it wasn't in God's plan, I'm afraid."

"I'm so sorry," Anna said solemnly.

"Quite alright, my dear. As I said, everything happens for a reason. We thought about adopting or fostering full time, but we worried we wouldn't be accepted given that we were both working full time. So, after a few years, we decided to apply to be short term foster parents if the need ever arose. The night Kristoff was placed with us, we got a phone call around seven in the evening asking if we'd be able to temporarily house a child. He was on our front porch a couple hours later. Such a sweet, quiet boy… he was very shy, and way too thin. I was afraid to even shake his hand; I thought I'd break him."

Anna bowed her head sadly. She didn't want to ask, and quite frankly didn't feel like she even needed to in order to understand. She dragged her thumb across the photograph in front of her; Kristoff couldn't have been any older than eleven in it, so it must have been the last school picture that had been taken before he was placed with Brenda and Cliff.

Brenda did not go into too much detail, presumably out of respect for Kristoff, but she did talk about what he was like in the years he lived with them. He was incredibly quiet for the first couple of months, she said, but eventually began to come out of his shell. She and Cliff got him enrolled in the local junior hockey league and made sure he kept up with homework. They went to his games and grounded him when he got in trouble.

"It's funny," Brenda said. "After a few years had gone by and we never got contacted for placement, I was growing content with the idea of just having nieces and nephews to spoil. But when we got Kristoff, within two days, I didn't want to let him go. I would get sad when the agency would show up on the caller ID, only to feel relieved when they asked if we could extend his stay for just a while longer. Eventually Cliff and I applied to keep him permanently until he came of age. Best decision we ever made!"

"That's amazing," Anna hummed. "I know Kristoff would agree. He has nothing but good things to say about having been here."

Brenda smiled and nodded. "I know how much his own mom meant to him. I never wanted to replace her, and couldn't even if I _had_ wanted to, but… well, Cliff and I will always consider him to be our boy. We love him more that he'll ever know."

Anna grinned. "Believe me, he knows."

The front door opened then, and a few moments later, Kristoff and Cliff were walking into the kitchen.

"Oh, no," Kristoff moaned when he saw the open photo album on the table. "C'mon, we were gone fifteen minutes!"

"And you thought I wouldn't take that opportunity to show you off?" Brenda laughed.

* * *

Later that evening, Kristoff and Anna were back at his house, lounging in the living room by the fire. He was sitting upright while she was stretched out on the big, cozy couch with her head in his lap. For quite a while, no words were exchanged, only touch: Kristoff lazily dragged his fingertips through her hair, while Anna brushed her thumb against his thigh. It was peaceful, Anna decided, to sit in silence away from the hustle of their daily lives. She was finding that she quite liked Franconia. Having grown up in the city, Anna could never quite fathom how people lived such quiet lives, but now she was thinking, given the company of Kristoff, she could get used to it rather quickly.

"Do you like it here?" Kristoff asked softly after a while, seemingly reading her mind.

Anna smiled and nodded, not even bothering to pick up her head.

"I do, very much," she hummed. "And not just the town, either, but this house. It's beautiful." She still had not seen the upstairs yet, but she was already in love with it. The living room itself was something to marvel at: it was spacious, and it's high ceiling was supported by wooden beams. A large picture window offered a view of the backyard and the mountains, and the mantle was composed of slabs of dark grey granite. Had Anna not known any better, she'd have thought she was lying in the lounge of a luxurious ski lodge.

"Thank you," Kristoff said. "I looked at a few before buying, but once I saw this one… it just felt right."

"It really is lovely. So big, too. What are you going to do with all this space?"

"I don't know. I suppose I don't really need it, given it's just me and Sven for now." His voice rose slightly on that last part. "I guess… I mean… when I first looked at the house… the rooms, the backyard… it just seemed like a nice place to raise a family, you know? If it ever came to it, I mean. And even if that never happens… well, I like it here, anyway."

"Is… is that something you want?" Anna asked. "Children?"

"I… uh, yeah," he murmured. Even though she couldn't see his face, Anna knew he was blushing. "I suppose it's always been in the back of my head that someday, maybe… yeah. I want a family eventually. How about you?"

"It's not something I've thought a whole lot about," Anna answered honestly. "I guess I've always assumed that one day, I'd be a mom. And working in Fan Relations… well, I've realized how much I like kids. So… yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like my own one day."

Quiet fell between them again until Kristoff broke it once more, this time bringing up their recent visit to Brenda and Cliff's house.

"Thank you for coming today," he hummed. "It meant a lot to me. They're really special to me, and obviously, you are, too, so it was so nice to finally have you meet."

"Are you kidding? Thank _you_ for bringing me," Anna countered with a small laugh. "I loved getting to know your family. And that photo album was priceless!"

Kristoff chuckled. "Yeah, sorry about that…"

"Nonsense. It was wonderful! You were such a cute kid. Stayed pretty cute, too."

"Why, thank you."

"Do you have any pictures from when you were even younger?"

She felt him nod. "I do. They're buried somewhere upstairs, though. That's an adventure for another time."

"Okay. I just want to know everything about you. Is that crazy? I tried to pick Brenda's brain, but… well, never mind. You get it."

The last part came out in a mumble, and Anna felt her cheeks redden. She could feel Kristoff's arms tense around her, so she figured it best to keep her mouth shut.

"Did she tell you?"

"Tell me what?" she asked, playing dumb.

"About the Fischers."

"Oh… um, she mentioned the name, but didn't say much else."

"Alright."

He fell silent again. Anna adjusted her head so she could look at his face. He was gazing off to the left, mindless staring into the dark abyss outside the window. He'd long since stopped massaging her scalp.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Anna asked meekly. She lifted her torso so she was sitting up beside him and took his hand in hers. "I know from experience that it helps to talk about things. And I know I have a reputation for being a talker, but I can be a really good listener, too. You… well, you've listened to me before. I can at least do the same for you."

Kristoff was quiet for a moment before shrugging.

"There's really not much to say," he mumbled. "I'm sure you can already figure it out, anyway. They were… well, they were what they were. The guy was a drunk and blew all the foster care money on booze. Knocked us around a couple of times. The woman turned a blind eye, probably because he knocked her around, too. Not a big deal, really."

"Not a big deal?" Anna gasped. "Kristoff, that's a _very _big deal."

"I didn't mean it like that," he amended. "I just mean... well, I'm over it, I suppose. It didn't impact me the way it impacts most people. I mean, it sucked and obviously I hated him at the time, but I'm not carrying around the weight of it. Not really. Maybe I would've had I not been moved to the Thompsons. They reminded me what a family was like. If I'd never had that feeling in my life again… yeah, maybe I'd be a little more bitter. But I'm lucky. Anna…"

She hated herself for it, but despite her intent to be the strong one, Anna had begun crying. They were only light, quivering tears, but tears nonetheless, and she felt like the worst sort of girlfriend, like she was making everything all about her.

"I'm sorry," she mewled, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "I just don't understand how anyone could have ever hurt you…"

"I feel the same way about you, you know," Kristoff whispered.

"We aren't talking about me. Kristoff… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"Anna… there are people out there who've had it way worse than I ever did. Not that it was a walk in the park, but still. I got a bruise every now and then, and was underfed for a while. That's cake compared to what some foster kids out there face. And like I said I – _we_ – were lucky. We got out before anything irreversible happened."

"We?"

"There were three other kids. Kerry was the oldest – she was a year older than me – and Brenden was my age. And there was little Tessa; she was seven or so when we all got split up."

"How did that happen?"

"We never knew," Kristoff answered. "I guess one of our teachers got suspicious and made a phone call. It was all kind of a blur. One day, an impromptu inspection was conducted, and one of the others must have cracked and spoke up. We were removed from them that day and I was with Brenda and Cliff by nightfall."

"I'm glad," Anna whispered. "I'm glad you found them."

"Me, too. Not only were they wonderful, but it was great to be back in this town. The Fischers lived in Thornton, a couple towns away. So that meant once I was back here, I got to go to a different school and everything, and I made a couple of friends. It… well, it was nice. Nice to feel normal again."

"What happened to them? The Fischers, I mean."

Kristoff shrugged. "Don't know. I suspect he did some jail time. Her, I'm not sure. I don't really care to know, to be honest. As long as I never see or hear from them again, I'll be happy. And chances are I won't unless they find me somehow."

"Is that why you don't do many interviews?" Anna asked.

Kristoff nodded. "Kinda, yeah. I know I'll never be able to avoid them all, and obviously the games themselves are broadcasted, but I figure the fewer close-ups of my face, the better. They never watched sports of any kind, but with my luck, someone they know will be flipping through the channels one day, see me, and tell them. I just don't want them trying to make contact or anything now that I'm… well-off, I suppose."

Anna nodded. She couldn't blame him. Were she in a similar situation, she figured she'd have the same mentality.

"I'm just so sorry," she murmured. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Really, Anna, it's okay," Kristoff assured her. "That was only one chapter of my life. The rest weren't all that bad."

"Tell me," Anna suggested with a smile.

Kristoff grinned. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," she answered honestly.

To her delight, Kristoff talked. He told her stories about when he was much younger, before his mom died. Her name was Petra and she had an infectious smile; Kristoff said he'd show her a picture at some point. They would go ice skating together, and she even bought him his first set of hockey gear for one of his birthdays. They'd go strawberry picking in spring and apple picking in the fall. They'd hike in the summer and sled in the winter. She took him to Canobie Lake once and rode the big roller coaster with him once he was finally tall enough; they'd both laughed through the whole thing. They'd bake cookies and play hide-n-seek and read stories together. She was his best friend, and he was hers.

A few years later, the Thompsons again showed him that kind of love and stability. In those years, he even made friends, mostly through his junior hockey league. They'd play together for fun and sometimes hang out at the little dinner he and Anna had driven past on their way in. He wasn't immune to trouble back then, though; Brenda had smelled the beer on his breath once and grounded him for two weeks.

"That was nothing compared to the time she smelled pot on me, though," Kristoff added with a chuckle. "Got grounded for a month that time!"

"I can't imagine you as a pothead."

"I wasn't," Kristoff said. "Only tried it two or three times. Definitely not for me!"

He got a job stocking shelves at the local supermarket when he was sixteen to start saving money. Kristoff told her how he started worrying a lot then about what would happen when he turned eighteen.

"They had no obligation to keep me," he explained about Brenda and Cliff. "Once I came of age, they could send me on my way. So I worked part time and tried to make money on the side doing odd jobs: mowing lawns, shoveling driveways, things like that. I kept everything I made in a shoebox underneath my bed. When I was seventeen, I started looking at those books of local apartment ads they have for free at newsstands and such, just to get ideas.

"Brenda found my shoebox one day while cleaning and asked me about it, and I was honest. All she did was come back a minute later with one of those little savings passbooks from the bank and handed it to me. It was a log of all the money the state had been giving her and Cliff for fostering me. She said they'd taken out a little bit each month for groceries and whatnot, but the rest they'd been putting into a savings account for me."

"Oh, my god…"

"That's exactly how I responded," Kristoff said. "Silly as it sounds, I started crying. I just didn't know what to say. She just hugged me and told me how much she and Cliff loved me. And then, of course, she lectured me about _how dare you think we'd kick you out? You stay here as long as you like!_" He said the last part in an imitation of Brenda's voice.

"So… I stayed," he continued. "Got a job after high school and built up my savings until I eventually got an apartment, but you already know that part. So now, I send them money every month to pay them back. They keep telling me to stop and that I don't owe them anything, but I disagree. I think I owe them the world; without them, who knows where I'd be. God knows I wouldn't be where I am now."

Anna just smiled and took his hand, not even bothering to wipe away the joyful tears welling up in her eyes.

"I guess what I'm saying is… well, you don't have to feel bad for me," Kristoff said. "I had a few crummy years, but aside from that, my life's been pretty great. And now, it's better than it's ever been. I wouldn't change a thing."

"You're incredible," she whispered.

A new, unique warmth spread through her chest as they smiled and gazed at one another for a few moments. She leaned into his touch as he brought his hand to the side of her face, grateful once again that it was this man who'd walked into her office that day in September. She found it remarkable how he could look at life so positively given his past; many, she knew, would defer to the negatives more often than not. Even she, who had a wonderful childhood and a family who'd always loved and supported her, tended to allow the bad things to be in the forefront of her memory. It was something she wanted to fix, and Anna loved that Kristoff made her remember.

She tumbled into his kiss and scooted closer to him, getting lost in the familiarity of his taste and scent. She decided then and there that she'd happily give up city life if it meant she could spend forever here, in this warm, isolated place, tangled in Kristoff.

"Show me upstairs?" she breathily asked when they pulled apart.

Kristoff nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

Anna sat in the passenger seat of Kristoff's car the following morning, waiting for his text. The drive back to Boston awaited them and they were intent on beating the storm the local news was forecasting, but Kristoff said he needed to make one more stop before they departed Franconia.

That morning had been like a dream. Anna woke, warm and cozy, when the early rays of the day began to poke through the giant window of the master bedroom overlooking the mountains. It was a surreal view, almost as if she was looking at heaven itself. She grinned when she looked to the right and saw Kristoff facing his dresser. He was stark naked, and she watched the skin of his back strain across his muscles as he stretched. He didn't turn around until he'd put on a pair of pajama pants, grinning when he caught her sleepy head poking out front beneath the covers and watching. He sat beside her, planted a kiss on her forehead, and said he was going to make some breakfast and that he'd meet her downstairs.

Anna enjoyed the comfort of the bed for a few more minutes before finally getting up, the air bringing a temporary chill to her nude skin. They'd never gotten around to bringing their small suitcases upstairs, so Anna grabbed her panties that had been carelessly tossed to the ground the night before and slipped them on. After pulling on one of Kristoff's oversized t-shirts, too, she pattered down to the kitchen, not even bothering to stop in the bathroom to check her hair, brush her teeth, or fix her likely smeared make-up. There, she and Kristoff enjoyed omelets, buttered toast, and coffee before getting ready to head back to the city.

It was a perfect couple of hours, and it had Anna wondering if life could actually be that perfect and carefree all the time. She loved not worrying about how she looked or what her breath smelled like while simultaneously knowing the person she was with was going to adore her no matter what. Even the night before had been a wonder. The way he'd caressed her, the way everything had been so slow and unrushed… beauty was the word. Perfection. Magic.

Anna looked down as her phone vibrated against her thigh, taking a deep breath as she read Kristoff's message:

_Okay. You can come now. Take a left after the gate and you'll see me._

Anna got out of the car and buried her hands in her pockets. The light winter wind grazed her face as she stepped through the gate of the cemetery and she instinctively tensed her shoulders against the cold. Kristoff said he could never visit home without stopping here, and he needed some time alone first. She understood.

As instructed, she took a left at the end of the path and saw him a distance away with Sven. He was standing before a headstone, his blond head bowed. His furry companion sat strongly at his side. It was a beautiful moment, one that brought a tear to Anna's eye. She wasn't alone; though she approached him slowly, the crunch of snow beneath her feet gave her away. When Kristoff turned, she could see the slight red of his eyes in spite of his smile.

"Hey," he whispered. "Thanks for coming. You didn't have to."

"Of course," Anna replied with a smile, taking his outstretched hand.

"Mom," Kristoff said, turning back to the stone, "this is my girlfriend, Anna. The one I've been telling you about."

Anna felt her chest tighten as she looked at the stone. The dates engraved beneath her name allowed for only thirty-two years. For Anna, that was less than ten years away; she couldn't imagine her life being so short.

"H-hi, Petra. I mean, Ms. Bjorgman," she amended quickly with a shaky voice. "I've heard so much about you. All good things, of course. I hope the same is true for what you've heard about me."

She heard Kristoff laugh softly.

"Of course it is. There's nothing but good to tell," Kristoff whispered. He reached into his pocket. "Here…"

Anna took what he handed her, smiling sadly when she saw that it was a photograph. Kristoff couldn't have been any older than five in it, but she could tell it was him right away; that smile couldn't belong to anyone else. Beside him, beaming proudly with her arms wrapped around her son, was Petra. She had smile that could light up the world, and it was matched by the twinkle in her green eyes. Her wavy blonde hair was that of an angel.

"She was beautiful," Anna quivered.

"Yeah, she was," Kristoff agreed. "Wonderful woman."

"I wish I could have met her."

"Me, too. She would have loved you."

Anna raised her head again to look at the stone, at a loss of words. Kristoff seemed to understand. He wrapped his arm around her then, and she leaned her head against his shoulder instinctively. He kissed the top of her hair.

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "Trust me, I do enough talking when I'm here."

"What do you talk about?"

"Everything. I tell her how my life is going. I talk about hockey, and Sven, and Brenda and Cliff… and you. I want her to know everything. And maybe she can't hear me, but I like to think she can somehow."

"I'm sure she does," Anna whispered. "And I'm sure she's proud of you."

They stood in silence for a couple more minutes in the wind, holding one another tightly. Sven eventually leaned into Anna, nuzzling her knee as if he was trying to keep her warm, too. Eventually, Kristoff suggested that they should probably head out. He kissed the tips of his fingers and rested them against the top of the stone for a moment.

"I love you, Mom," he said. "I'll be back soon."

As they began walking toward the cemetery's gate, Anna suddenly felt guilty. Though she'd never known the woman, it seemed wrong to leave without at least saying something. Without thinking twice, she proclaimed to Kristoff that she'd dropped her phone and had to go back.

"I'll go with you," he began, but Anna stopped him.

"No, it's okay. You go warm up the car, okay?" she suggested. "I'll just be a minute."

She half walked, half jogged back to Petra's resting place, and once again found herself at a loss of words once she arrived.

"Hi, Ms. Petra. I mean, Petra. Ms. Bjorgman. Sorry. It's, um… it's me again. Anna. Kristoff's girlfriend."

She chewed her lower lip and closed her eyes for a moment; she couldn't even escape her awkwardness when talking to a dead person. Anna stared at the stone again, wondering why she'd come back. She had nothing of value to say. She looked over her shoulder to see if Kristoff had stood waiting, smiling when she saw nothing but the empty cemetery; he hadn't lingered and watched. Anna wasn't immediately sure why, but she liked that.

Turning back to the stone, she spotted the flowers Kristoff had left. Purple lilies. Was that a coincidence, or had he chosen purple because he'd planned on bringing Anna here today? They looked beautiful and pure against the bright white snow.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm falling in love with your son," Anna declared, surprising herself at how easy it was to say. "Kristoff is a wonderful man. He's my best friend. I'm so lucky…"

She bowed her head again, fidgeting with the drawstring of her hood for a fleeting moment before speaking some more.

"I know he went through some rough times after you passed away," she continued. "He told me some of it last night and… I can only imagine how much that hurt you to see. But just know that he has so much love in his life now, and more than he probably realizes. Sven, Brenda and Cliff, his friends, his teammates, thousands of fans… and me… just know his life is full of love. He's adored and revered. He'll never be lonely again."

Just like Kristoff did, Anna touched the top of the stone as a silent farewell before hurrying back to the car. The clouds were getting a little denser, and if they left now, they'd miss the storm completely.

"Alright, I lied," Kristoff laughed once she was in the car. "One more stop."

"What now?"

"Gas. Totally forgot."

"You're really bad at road trips."

"I know. But if you want, while I'm filling up, you can go in and get some hot chocolate for the drive?"

Anna smiled. "Now you're talking."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yes, yes... contrary to popular belief, I am, in fact, alive! :p I'm terribly sorry for the delay. The start of the school year is incredibly hectic for me, and I've been sick on-and-off for the past month. Needless to say, the dust of the new school year is starting to settle, as is my exhaustion, so I'm hoping that will lead to more writing time.

Thanks so much for your patience! See you much, _much_ sooner this time around!


	24. Futures

**Chapter 24: **_**Futures**_

_**-Kristoff-**_

"Kris… Kristoff… OH!"

Everything that followed was incoherent cries of euphoria. That, coupled with the repeated sound of his own skin smacking against her rear, served as the soundtrack to his own orgasm. Everything went white as Kristoff squeezed his eyes shut, gasping as the waves of pure and unmatched pleasure rocked his core. He relaxed his grip on Anna's waist and dragged his fingers over the heated skin of her hips, grabbing two handfuls of her glorious ass. He gave an affectionate squeeze before withdrawing and lying down beside her. Anna, meanwhile, slid from all fours to lay on her belly with a satiated sigh.

"Mm," Anna hummed. "And it's barely noon."

"Mhm. You know we're going to be late, right?"

"Yup, and that's all your fault."

Kristoff laughed. "How is it _my_ fault?"

"I got here and you answered the door, looking all handsome and sexy."

"I'm – er, _was_ – wearing jeans and a hoodie."

"Exactly," Anna chuckled. "And for the record, I wasn't complaining."

"Good. Me neither." Kristoff glanced at his bedside clock. It was 12:04, just less than an hour shy of when they'd agreed to arrive.

"We should probably tidy back up," he suggested. "We gotta leave soon."

"No," Anna huffed, scooting over to snuggle into his side. She lazily draped her arm across his middle and mumbled, "Just a few more minutes, okay?"

Kristoff smiled and held her close, having no intention to argue. It was an informal lunch with friends; what did it matter if they ended up being a few minutes late? He doubted anyone would care or even notice. Besides, nothing could be more important than a few quiet, carefree minutes with Anna.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured after a while.

"Nothing." He could feel her shrug against him, but it was the slight rise in her voice that made him tilt his head in question.

"What are you thinking about?" he repeated. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, of course."

"What is it?" he persisted.

"Really, it's nothing," Anna promised. "It's not important."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I… never mind."

"Anna," he moaned. "C'mon."

"Really," Anna sighed. "It's stupid. It's just something I've been wondering, but… no, you'll get mad."

"No, I won't. Out with it."

She sighed again, nestling closer to him. "You're just… you're really good at it."

"Huh?"

"Er… _this_."

He grinned at her emphasis, chuckling as he got the hint. "Why, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"But I'm sensing there's a question here?"

"Kinda," Anna muttered. "But it's not important."

"Anna, please. Just ask."

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"I promise."

He should have known it was coming. The second her question hung in the air, it seemed so obvious and simple, as if it should have been asked quite some time ago.

"Have you been with lots of girls?" she whispered.

Kristoff felt the tension in his chest, though he wasn't immediately sure why. He wasn't embarrassed or contrite, nor did he think Anna would be upset. At least, he_ hoped _she wouldn't be upset. Would she? Kristoff had no idea what she would deem to be _too little_ or _too much_, something that he knew mattered to lots of people.

"A few," he divulged. "Like… five or six."

"Oh."

"But Anna," he added quickly, "only one had ever really mattered until now, and you knew about that."

"No, I know," she said. "I'm not angry. I suppose I… never mind."

"No, go ahead."

"I guess I'm just wondering, if they didn't matter… well, why?"

Kristoff sighed. There was no point in lying to her.

"I guess… well, I was lonely," he admitted. "I know that sounds pathetic, but it's the truth."

He didn't go into detail, as he figured she could piece it together on her own. Aside from one instance back home, they'd all been girls he brought back to his room during his first year with the team while on the road. They'd meant nothing, and he was ashamed that he didn't remember most of their names, or even what some of them looked like.

"You sure you're not upset?" Kristoff asked.

"Not unless it was in the last few months."

"Of course not!" he exclaimed. "No way. It was before we even met."

"And… and you don't have any kids, right?"

"God, no! Uh-uh. I was always super careful."

"Okay… good."

They were both startled to hear a knock at Kristoff's front door, followed by a bark from Sven. Anna glanced up with him with curiosity in her eyes.

"Probably Martha," he said.

Kristoff leaned over to leave a gentle kiss on her cheek before slithering out of his bed. After pulling his clothes back on, he ventured out into the living room. Sven was whimpering and staring at the door, and Kristoff muttered a quick _hush_ before opening it. Excepting to find his dear neighbor who cared for Sven when he was on the road, he was surprised to instead see a postal worker holding a small parcel.

"Good afternoon. Mr. Bjorgman?" he asked.

"Yes, hello."

"If I could just get you to sign here, please…"

Kristoff scribbled a quick electronic signature on the tablet and accepted the package with a murmur of thanks.

"I… I'm a big fan," the postal worker said sheepishly. "You guys did great the other night against Nashville."

Kristoff grinned despite the touch of heat rising within his cheeks. He knew he'd never get used to having a fan base, much less having strangers make positive comments on his job performance.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I appreciate that."

The postal worker nodded. "Wonderful to meet you. Enjoy your day, Sir."

Kristoff glanced down at the parcel as he closed his door. He didn't remember ordering anything, and for a brief second wondered if someone had somehow hacked his bank account. Then he read the label, sighing in relief when he saw that it was from Franconia. _Of course_ that's what it was; he just hadn't expected it to arrive so quickly.

He returned to the bedroom just as Anna was pulling on her sweater. Kristoff could only see the profile of her face, but he could tell she was in deep thought as she adjusted her hair. He hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulders after planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Kristoff frowned at the slight melancholy in her voice. Sighing, he spun her around and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist.

"I wasn't lying, you know," he said. "None of it meant anything until now. This, _you_…" he emphasized, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "this means something."

Anna smiled. "I know. It isn't that."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know," she murmured, shrugging before delicately placing her hands on his shoulders. "I guess sometimes you just make me feel… well, young."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

"It's stupid," Anna said, "but sometimes you just seem so much older than me, you know? And not in a bad way. You're just more… experienced, I guess. With everything. You seem to know more of the world – the _real_ world. Like, I shouldn't have been shocked by what you said, but for a moment I was. I guess… well, I was so sheltered for a long time. And remember that time we went to trivia night? You knew exactly how to behave in that situation. But me… well, I have limited experience with bars, so I was really out of my element there for a while. Sorry. I don't know what point I'm trying to make, or if there even is one…"

"Anna, it's okay. I get it," Kristoff said. "But hey, for what it's worth, I feel the same way about you sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… you're educated. You've traveled a lot, seen some of the world, have talents..."

"You're talented, too!"

"Yes, in a sport. That's one thing."

"Excuse me, but you're also gifted in the art of being a stubborn pain in the ass. That's two."

"Fair enough," Kristoff chuckled. "Anyway, what I'm saying is we're different people from different walks of life. But, I think that's what makes us such a good match." He ended that last part with a kiss on her nose, a sense of relief washing over him when she grinned. "So we're good?"

"Kristoff, we've never been anything but good," Anna said. "I'm just an insecure fool sometimes, that's all."

He grinned and pulled her in for a hug, deeply inhaling the scent of her hair and soaking in her warmth.

"We've got to get going," he said against her hair.

"I know. Hey, who was at the door?"

"Hm?"

"Someone knocked. Did it end up being Martha?"

"Oh. No, it was the mailman."

"For what?"

"Just delivering a package. Some stuff from back home," he added.

"Gotcha. Anyway, you ready?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yup."

On their way out the door, Anna grabbed the blue gift bag, and Kristoff was thankful she didn't question the contents of the small parcel he'd left on the end table.

* * *

"Hey, guys," Dimitri greeted. "Thanks for coming!"

"Thanks for having us!" Anna chirped. "We can't wait to see the little guy!"

"Well, Tatyana's feeding him at the moment, but they'll be done soon. Come on in!"

Dimitri stepped aside to allow Anna and Kristoff to enter the Mateevs' warm and welcoming home. They stepped into the living room, which was modestly furnished with cozy sofas and chairs. The Lukskas were there, too, as was Troy Pavalov. Kristoff nodded toward him as he placed the present he and Anna brought with the others.

"Hey, guys," Andre said. Stephanie, Andre's wife, stood up from where she sat coloring with their daughter to greet them.

"Anna! It's been forever!" she exclaimed, embracing her before moving on to Kristoff. "It's good to see you!"

"You, too!" Anna said before glancing around the room. "Did you bring Daniel, too?"

"No, my mom's watching him. Natalie was supposed to be there, too, but she really wanted to come see the baby."

Upon hearing her name, the little girl who, aside from her hair, was the spitting image of Andre abandoned her coloring book and came over the small cluster of adults.

"Hi, I'm Natalie," she said to Anna and Kristoff. "What are your names?"

"Hi, honey," Anna said, kneeling so she was at the girl's eye level. "I'm Anna, and this is Kristoff."

"It's nice to meet you, Natalie," Kristoff chimed in.

"Are you two married?"

Kristoff felt the faintest blush cross his cheeks, thankful that Anna took the question.

"No," she answered. "We aren't."

"Why not?" Natalie persisted.

"Natalie," Stephanie interrupted, coming to the rescue, "how about you ask Anna if she'd like to come color with us?"

"Will you?!" Natalie exclaimed. "Will you?! Please?!"

Anna laughed. "Of course!"

Kristoff took a seat with his teammates as Anna was dragged over to a table by the enthusiastic four-year-old.

"So, when _are_ you two getting married?" Troy jested.

"Shut up," Kristoff said.

"Just as well. Can't get married until her parents know, anyway."

"What?" Andre interjected. "You haven't told Arendelle yet?"

"We talked about it and decided it's best we wait until the end of the season," Kristoff explained. "We don't want to cause any trouble, seeing as she's on the road with us and all."

"So say we make it all the way to the Cup. You're not going to tell her parents until _June?!"_

"Lay off it," Dimitri chimed in. "Though, Bjorgman, it might benefit you if they know. Word is New York's been eyeing our roster."

Kristoff's heart sank. He'd heard rumors the Rangers had been sniffing around for new talent, but he'd tried to forget it. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, but he couldn't help but wonder if that jackass Anna used to date was behind it. On paper, Hans Westergaard had no association with the Rangers, but Kristoff was sure he had some pull with his father and eldest brother.

"The trade deadline just passed, though," Troy said.

"And it opens right back up the second the season is over," Dimitri countered. "I'm just saying, if you want to stay here, it might be good to have some sort of connection."

"That's assuming Arendelle even wants to trade, though," Kristoff said. "Not to mention, that logic could work against me. He could want to get me as far away from Anna as possible."

"Nah," Andre refuted. "Even if that wound up being true, you've got nothing to worry about. You're too valuable. You ain't going anywhere."

"If anyone goes, it'll be me," Troy said. "I'm a free agent after this season."

"They'll want to resign you right away," Dimitri said. "You've been having a stellar year."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and none of us will go," Kristoff said.

"And maybe we'll get _really_ lucky and Langlois will get shipped off," Andre muttered.

"Or Wyatt," Troy offered.

"Guys, c'mon," Dimitri said. "They may not be the most… _likeable_ people all the time, but they're still our teammates. We've got to stick together."

"Aye aye, Captain," Troy joked, throwing in a salute for good measure.

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at him. "I take it back. New York can have you."

The four of them enjoyed a good laugh and more banter before Tatyana emerged with little Zach ten minutes later. Their presence was made known not because of her, but because of Anna and Stephanie squealing and jumping up from the coloring table.

"Hi, everyone," Tatyana said. "Thanks for coming! And – _oh!_ You didn't need to do all that!" she added when she saw the small pile of gifts near the window. "We're just happy you all could make it!"

"Oh, Tatyana, he's _beautiful!_" Anna sighed, eyes glued to Zach.

"Handsome like Daddy!" Stephanie added.

"Oi!" Andre quipped with grin. "But she's right. He's a handsome little thing. Congrats, you guys!"

Kristoff couldn't help but agree; Dimitri and Tatyana's son was adorable. He was about a month old, but he still had the dark hair he'd had in the picture Dimitri sent shortly after the boy was born. Kristoff smiled as Tatyana passed the wiggling infant to Anna, her arms already gleefully outstretched. She gently bounced him as she walked over to the armchair in the corner.

From that moment on, it was clear Anna had no interest in anyone the room except for little Zach, for she was completely lost in him. She kept smiling at him and talking to him, seemingly giving him a chance to respond with his small whimpers and coos. She tenderly held his tiny hand in hers, drawing little circles on it with the tips of her thumb. Kristoff, meanwhile, looked on in awe and adoration. He'd never had much of an opportunity to learn how to be good with babies, but it very obviously came naturally to Anna.

Soon enough, her eyes met his, and she grinned.

_He's so precious!_ she mouthed silently before turning her attention back to Zach. His heart melted at her gentleness as she adjusted the baby so Natalie, who'd finally come over, could get a better look.

"You guys really aren't going to wait until June, are you?" Dimitri asked. By that point, Andre had moved to join Stephanie and Troy had gone to the bathroom.

"I don't know," Kristoff said, not tearing his eyes away from Anna.

"Better not," he chuckled. "The way you're watching her makes it look like you want that."

"Want what?"

"_That_. Family life. And soon."

"Not soon," Kristoff said. "But… maybe eventually."

Dimitri grinned. "You're getting soft on me, Bjorgman. Or maybe you were just a huge softie all along."

"Shut up."

"Not saying it's a bad thing," Dimitri said, taking a sip of his water. "Never thought I'd want it myself, to be honest. But now? Wouldn't change it for the world."

"You guys thinking of having another one?" Kristoff asked.

"Christ, Bjorgman, cut us some slack!" Dimitri laughed. "Let us get back to a regular sleep schedule before we start worrying about second one. But… yeah. We want three. Both of us are one of three, so we figured we might as well carry on the tradition!"

Kristoff nodded, looking at Anna once more. She was passing Zach to an eager Stephanie, and he could see the twinge of disappointment she felt in letting him go.

"So, you and Anna," Dimitri said after a minute.

"What about us?"

"What's the deal? Still keeping it simple, or…?"

"Er… we're still dating, if that's what you mean."

"No shit, you're still dating. I mean, are the two of you getting more serious?"

"Somewhat," Kristoff admitted, though the admission was far more subdued than the reality. Kristoff knew it was getting more serious, at least on his end. Dimitri certainly wasn't too far off when he noticed the wishful look on Kristoff's face as he watched Anna earlier. "She has a drawer at my place now, and a shelf in the bathroom."

"Careful. Before you know it, your entire bathroom cabinet will be gone. Women and their products…"

Kristoff merely chuckled. The statement was painfully accurate. Already, Anna was storing at his place a make-up bag, two different shampoos, four body sprays, a hairbrush, a hairdryer, a small pile of hair ties, a pack of disposable razors, various lotions, and an unknown number of lip balms. And he'd seen her own bathroom; there was _so _much stuff.

"So, have you told her yet?" Dimitri asked.

"Told her what?"

"You _know_ what. The big L word."

Kristoff was caught off guard for a minute. He didn't remember saying anything even remotely close to that to Dimitri. How could he have known?

"What makes you say that?" he queried.

"Because I'm not an idiot, nor am I blind," Dimitri said cheekily.

The doorbell rang then, and Dimitri muttered _pizzas_ before getting up to answer the door. His seat was almost immediately claimed by Anna, who sighed happily as he sat down.

"He's an angel," Anna hummed, looking longingly at Zach wiggling around in Stephanie's arms. "You've got to hold him!"

"Maybe," Kristoff said. "Something tells me Steph will have him for a while. Or Andre. He's a bigger teddy bear than you think."

"Oh, I _know_ he is," Anna laughed. "I saw how he was with the kids during the Youth Hockey Program. You were, too, you know."

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" Anna sang. "You're great with kids! They all adored you. So… you should definitely hold Zach. He's going to melt your heart! Those little blue eyes…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked toward Zach again. Stephanie had repositioned the baby so he was sitting on her lap, giving him the perfect view of Anna. Anna seized the opportunity to make funny faces at the little guy before turning it into a round of peek-a-boo. Kristoff watched her with a soft smile gracing his lips, wondering for the millionth time how he'd gotten so lucky. Despite Anna's claim, it wasn't Zach that was melting his heart.

"What?" Anna asked when she looked at him again, still laughing a little.

Kristoff grinned. "Nothing."

* * *

Kristoff arrived back home around six in the evening after bringing Anna home. She was going out with her sister for dinner that night, so he'd be spending the night on his own. Kristoff didn't mind; while he loved every second he shared with Anna, he still needed his alone time every once in a while.

After tidying his kitchen and living room a bit, he took a shower and changed into some comfy clothes suitable for a solo night in. Before settling on his couch, he grabbed the package that had been delivered earlier as well as the scissors from an end table drawer. The box had been taped up rather well, and it took Kristoff a couple of minutes to get it open.

On top of a layer of bubble wrap was a piece of paper. Had this been an order from Amazon or some other online retailer, it would have detailed the price of his purchase and information on how to make a return if necessary. But this particular package was from a little shop in Franconia, and it wasn't even from a printer. Instead, it was a handwritten letter on white-lined, loose leaf paper:

_Kristoff,_

_Thank you for your business! It was wonderful to hear from you. We hope you're doing well!_

_We took your specifications and ideas, and we think this will suit your needs nicely. Please let us know if anything needs to be mended or altered. Additionally, if this is entirely not what you were looking for, don't hesitate to send it back so we can put together something sufficient. We want to ensure you're completely satisfied!_

_Again, we're most humbled and honored that you chose us for this special occasion. On a more personal note, please feel free to swing by the shop the next time you're in town. We'd be delighted to see you!_

_With warmest regards,_

_Charles &amp; Joyce Lapierre _

_Lapierre &amp; Sons Jewelers  
Since 1956  
Franconia, NH_

Kristoff pulled the bubble wrap away from the box. There, nestled in a pillow of more packing material, was a small, black velvet cube. He gently picked it up and opened it, smiling as he did so.

It was perfect.

The ring's band was platinum, just as he'd requested, as Anna didn't care much for gold. Embedded in the center were two small stones: a soft, pink opal for her and a bold, green emerald for him. Accenting the stones were three tiny diamonds on either side, arranged in slight waves that each gave way to the shiny, silver band. The ring was unique and special, just like she was, and he could only pray she would love it when the time came to present it to her.

Kristoff knew it was a long way off. He and Anna still had so many steps to climb before they got to that point. Telling her parents was a big one. They hadn't even had a major fight yet. And, perhaps most importantly, he'd not yet told her he loved her, therefore never giving her the chance to reciprocate the sentiment, if she even did.

However, despite there being so many hurdles left to jump, Kristoff had known the second he and Anna began leaving Franconia two weeks before that he was a goner. Everything about that short yet profound trip convinced him. The way Brenda had hugged him before they left their house and whispered _I love her already_ in his ear, the solemn and revealing conversation they'd had that evening, the night they shared, the cemetery in the morning… all of it made him know with absolute certainty that she was the one. And then today, the way she'd been so careful and tender with little Zach, so patient and kind with the spirited Natalie…

Anna Arendelle was, without a doubt, his girl, and whether it was one, five, or ten years from now, she was the one he was going to marry.

"What do you think, buddy?" he asked Sven, who was panting happily at his side.

"_It's a ring. I'm a dog. I don't care._"

"Think Anna will like it, though?" Kristoff asked. "Think she'll say yes when the time comes?"

"_I sure hope so. She gives a good belly rub."_

Kristoff grinned, giving his furry friend an affectionate rub on the head. He proceeded to his bedroom closet, where he kept a small, fireproof safe for the things he held most dear. As he spun the combination lock, he imagined how he would ask. Maybe he'd bring her back to the restaurant where they had their first date. Maybe the rink, where they first became friends. Or perhaps that lonely, peaceful wharf where they'd shared their first kiss. Whatever he did, it had to be special, as Anna deserved nothing but the best.

He stowed the ring in the safe and locked it back up. Though he knew it be quite a while, Kristoff couldn't help yearning for the day when he'd get to take it back out.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hey, would you look at that! I'm still alive! Who woulda thunk it? :P As always, my sincerest apologies for the delay. Life happens, usually at the most inconvenient times. If you're still here, thank you so, so much!

Happy new year, my loyal loves! 3 I wish you all a safe, happy, and healthy 2017! See you soon!


	25. Spring Forward

**Chapter 25: **_**Spring Forward**_

_**-Anna-**_

Anna was all smiles as she walked through the metal detectors at the arena. She made sure to hold her keys and phone above her head; she'd forgotten that step the last time, which prompted the buzzer to go off twice. After her bag was checked, she approached the nearest usher and handed over her ticket.

"Enjoy the game, Miss," he said as he scanned the barcode.

"You, too! I mean, thank you! Have a nice evening!" she chirped.

She passed the Pro Shop on her way to the escalator, but decided against going in. It was far too crowded, and she could always swing by after hours; working for the team had its perks. Another perk was getting to sit in one of the promenade suites with her family whenever she wasn't working, but for this particular game, she'd be sitting with the fans. Anna had purchased her ticket online, just like she'd done for a game the previous season. It was a new annual tradition she intended to keep.

She glanced at her ticket once reaching the loge concourse; her seat was in section eleven, which was about a third of the way around the arena. Anna didn't mind, as the walk would give her plenty of time to decide what she wanted to grab for a snack. The delicious scents of burgers, hot dogs, pizza, and chicken tenders bombarded her nose as she walked around the concourse, and though they were all very tempting, she'd already had dinner and figured something lighter would be more suitable. She eventually settled on popcorn, and heard someone calling her name as she stood in line.

"Anna!"

She turned toward the voice, grinning when she saw the team's announcer heading her way.

"Olaf!" she exclaimed. "Hello! It's good to see you!"

Olaf had worked for the team for years and she'd known him since she was young. However, despite hearing his voice all the time as he announced goals, penalties, and other information to the fans in the arena, Anna hardly saw him; he was always relegated to his booth.

"You too! How have you been?"

"Great, and you?"

"Wonderful, thanks. What brings you to the concourse? Running another contest?"

Anna laughed. "Nope! I'm not working today. Tonight, I'm just a fan!"

"Well then, I hope you enjoy the game. It's an important one! If we lose tonight-"

"… we fall below Ottawa," Anna finished. "Can't that happen, can we?"

"Ah, we'll be fine! Our guys are the best of the bunch! I better get back, though. It was lovely to see you, Anna! Have fun!"

"Thanks, Olaf! See you around!"

Soon enough, it was Anna's turn at the counter. She ordered her snack, and when the server asked if she wanted anything else, she almost instinctively requested bottled water. However, the taps caught her eye.

_Oh, what the hell,_ she thought. _Treat yourself._

"Beer, please."

"What kind?"

"Um…" Anna squinted at the taps. What was the one Kristoff liked? "Sam something or other?"

"Sam Adams?"

"Yes! That's the one."

"Regular or Cold Snap?"

"What's Cold Snap?"

"It's seasonal," the young man said with a shrug.

"I suppose I'll give that one a try, then. Why not?"

Anna paid for her items then headed to her seat. The moment she was in the arena, she was reminded of why she'd decided to make buying a ticket her annual tradition. She absolutely loved working for the team, but there was something special about being in fan territory and not being paid to be there. Only when she wasn't working could she truly experience it for all it was. The sights, the smells, the sounds… it was mesmerizing, exciting, and made one forget about life for a while.

She smiled as she munched on her popcorn, watching as people slowly began to pile into the arena. The clock up on the jumbotron indicated that the warm-up skate would begin in less than three minutes, so she enjoyed the montage of photos being displayed on the screen. Before each game, fans had an opportunity to snap selfies and send them in through social media to be shown on the jumbotron.

"Excuse us," came a voice. "May we sneak by you?"

Anna looked up to see an elderly couple smiling at her.

"Oh! Of course! Sorry!" she exclaimed, tucking in her feet so they could get through. Turned out they were in the pair of seats immediately to her left, and Anna wound up sitting beside the wife.

"You all alone tonight, honey?" she asked.

Anna nodded. "Yeah, it's just me."

"Where's your fella?" she chuckled. "Pretty girl like you must have a fella."

"Thanks," Anna smiled. "And I do. He's just-"

Anna was interrupted as the buzzer went off, announcing the start of the warm-up skate.

"Ladies and gentlemen," came Olaf's voice over the loudspeaker, "please welcome the visiting Toronto Maple Leafs and your Boston Bruins!"

The arena, though still half empty, sounded like a full house as the fans thundered with applause. The two teams spilled onto the ice for their warm-up, and Anna spotted Kristoff right away. She instinctively wanted to wave but knew there was no way Kristoff would have spotted her; he had the game to focus on, anyway. Nevertheless, a blush crept across her face.

"He's working tonight," Anna finished with a smile. "So... yeah. It's only me this evening! But that's okay. I just love the game!"

"Oh, so do we!" the older woman said. "We've been coming to games since before we got married. How much were the tickets back then, Henry?"

"Goodness, I don't remember. A few dollars, perhaps?" her husband answered.

"Well, needless to say they were much cheaper," she chuckled. "The league was smaller then, too. Only twelve teams! Can you believe it?"

"So much has changed! My grandfather had so many stories from the game back then."

"Oh, it was wonderful. Still is, of course. I'm Edna, by the way."

"I'm Anna," she said, holding out her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, dear. So, who's your favorite fella on this fantastic team?"

"Oh! Well, they're all great, of course, but I, um… I'm partial to Kristoff Bjorgman," she finished.

"He's very talented! And a handsome young man, too, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah," Anna giggled. "Yeah, he is."

Anna talked with Edna, and occasionally Henry when he chimed in, as the teams warmed up and the arena continued to fill. Before she knew it, it was five minutes until the puck dropped, signaling the beginning of the pregame announcements. It began, as always, with a video montage of highlights from the season so far, set to some energetic music to pump up the crowd. Then, Olaf could be heard announcing the starting lineup of the Maple Leafs. Booing ensued throughout the arena after each name, which Anna didn't partake in. Though she didn't have a problem with it, she always remembered something her father said:

_Never boo the opposition. Without them, there'd be no game!_

"And now, the starting lineup for your Boston Bruins!" Olaf's voice boomed throughout the venue, followed by a chorus of cheers from the fans.

"At left wing, number fourteen, Miles Langlois!" As his name was called, a photo of him was put on the jumbotron, which changed as each player was announced. "At center ice, your captain, number thirty-one, Dimitri Mateev! At right wing, number twenty-three, Kristoff Bjorgman!"

Anna blushed as Kristoff's picture was put on display and joined in on the cheering. A twinge of protective jealousy blazed through her when she caught a group of young women across the aisle gawking at him. Then she reminded herself that it was her he'd be taking to bed later and she felt infinitely better.

"On defense, number twenty-eight, Troy Pavalov, and number eleven, Jeff Wyatt! And in goal, number forty-four, Andre Lukska!"

Once both the American and Canadian national anthems were sung and the puck was dropped, the game began as viciously as one would expect it to so late in the season. Boston was second in the division, but in danger of falling to third with a loss. Toronto, meanwhile, was holding onto a wildcard spot by a thread and was fighting to climb the ladder. It came as a shock to no one when a hard , but clean, check from Boston to Toronto resulted in a brawl that sent a player from each team to the penalty box.

After a scoreless first period, Boston drew first blood in the second when Darren Matteuse tucked a well-aimed shot into the upper corner of Toronto's net. Anna, of course, joined in on the wild cheering that erupted throughout the arena, waving her black and gold scarf in the air like a flag before high-fiving both Edna and Henry.

The celebration, however, was short-lived. The next few moments played out seemingly in slow motion, yet still so fast that Anna barely had a chance to process what happened. Play resumed with Dimitri Mateev winning the face-off. The puck went straight to Kristoff, who took off like a bolt of lightning. The crowd went absolutely berserk as he had a near breakaway; for a moment, it looked like he was going to outskate Toronto's defensemen and have a one-on-one matchup with the goaltender. However, one caught up, causing Kristoff to veer left of the net and attempt to loop around it. That was when one of Toronto's defensemen checked Kristoff into the corner glass so hard that the sound echoed throughout the arena and both referees blew their whistles.

Troy Pavalov immediately attacked the Toronto player. Within seconds, nearly every player on the ice was brawling, save for the goalies and Dimitri Mateev. The latter, much like Anna, seemed to have eyes only for Kristoff. While the referees and linesmen were busy attempting to break up the fight, the Bruins captain skated over to his fallen teammate, who still had not gotten up.

Anna's stomach dropped as she watched Dimitri kneel beside Kristoff. Kristoff was on his stomach on the ice, putting his weight on one knee as he attempted to stand. He immediately slipped back down and Dimitri managed to wave down one of the referees. After Troy and the Toronto player who'd checked Kristoff were thrown in the penalty box, the fight was over and all the Bruins players remaining on the ice were crowded around Kristoff. A curious, anxious murmur had taken over the cheering of the fans.

What was wrong? Why hadn't he gotten up yet? He was checked into the glass; that happened all the time! Anna's mind was reeling with worry and her heart raced; neither stopped even when Kristoff finally stood with the support of Dimitri and one of the refs. The two helped him skate off the ice, seemingly to the medical wing, to the sound of supportive applause from the crowd.

Without thinking twice, Anna began gathering her purse and the rubbish from her earlier snack.

"Leaving so soon, dear?" Edna asked.

"Oh… yes," Anna stammered. "Yes. I just remembered I, uh… I have this thing to get to. It doesn't matter. It was nice meeting you!"

"You too, dear. Oh, I do hope Bjorgman is alright!"

_Me, too_, Anna thought as she scurried from her seat toward the concourse. _Me, too_.

* * *

Anna hadn't planned on venturing into employee-only zones that night. All she'd wanted to do was be a regular fan. She wanted to remain exclusively in fan territory, even after the game. However, she found herself waiting outside the medical wing, anxiously awaiting news on Kristoff. The door was closed, and even though she knew the team doctors quite well, she wasn't about to go barging in.

She kept reminding herself that it was very rare for checks to result in major injuries. Sprains were common. A concussion was a possibility, too, though unlikely; the way Kristoff had floundered when he attempted to stand indicated that it was likely a lower body injury. Anna just prayed it wasn't a broken bone or torn tendon.

"Any news?" she heard. Anna looked to her left to see her father, who immediately took the seat beside her.

"Nothing yet."

Adgar sighed.

"That was quite a hit," he said. "Clean, but rough. I'm sure he's okay. I thought you were off tonight?"

Anna nodded. "I am. I bought a ticket for the game. I was in the stands."

"You bought a ticket? Anna, you know you're welcome in the promenade anytime."

"I know, but I like to be just a fan every once in a while. Easier to sit back and enjoy the game, I guess."

"Yet, here you are, down below."

Anna nodded again. "I wanted to make sure he's okay, that's all."

"Is he coming to Easter dinner?"

"I – wait, what?"

Anna, who'd been mindlessly staring into her lap as she talked, turned toward her father with a raised eyebrow.

"Kristoff," Adgar clarified. "Is he coming to Easter dinner?"

"Oh, I… I don't know. Are we doing some sort of special team gathering?"

"No, but you and Elsa are always welcome to bring your significant others over for holiday gatherings. You know that."

"Yeah, but… Kristoff isn't… we aren't… he's my friend." Anna could feel her face grow warmer with each word, and it only got worse when her father gave her an all-knowing smirk.

"Oh, c'mon, Anna. I know. Your mother knows. _Everyone_ knows."

"But… but how?"

"Well," Adgar said, looking toward the ceiling for a moment as if he were searching his brain for evidence, "for starters, there was the Christmas party at the hotel. You danced with him."

"I danced with Troy and Dimitri, too," Anna argued.

Adgar laughed. "Not like you danced with Kristoff. Even I could see the sparks flying! There was the time I came in for an afternoon meeting and saw you two having a ball out on the ice. Oh, and let's not forget the day of the Youth Hockey Program when you two were kissing in the exhibition hall. I_ think_," he added jokingly, "that's what made it pretty obvious for me."

"Oh, god," Anna moaned, covering her face with her hands. "You saw that?!"

"Yup."

"So you've known for… what, two months? Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't my place," Adgar said. "I figured when you were ready to tell me, you would. So, why _didn't_ you tell us, anyway?"

Anna shrugged. "I don't know. It's not that I didn't want to. I guess I was just worried that… I don't know," she repeated. "I worried it wasn't allowed."

"Allowed?"

"I'm your daughter," Anna sighed. "You're essentially his boss. I didn't know what the rules were, and I guess I just worried he'd be traded if… if we were found out. Will he now?"

"Goodness, no!" Adgar exclaimed. "He's definitely one I don't want to let get away!"

"But… New York. You said they wanted him."

"They did, and still do. I'm sure they'll ask again when the season is over and the trade window opens back up, but that doesn't mean we're required to oblige. And I'll be honest with you," Adgar continued, "there was once a time when we were considering it. Trading Kristoff, I mean. New York was offering quite a bit of money for him."

"Why didn't you? What changed your mind?"

"Well, I can't speak for everyone else involved in the trade negotiation process, of course, but I personally was always on the fence. Once it became clear to me that the two of you were together, of course I shut it down. I couldn't do that to you. But even before then… well, it was your sister, really. Elsa was dead set against the potential trade, and she made quite the convincing argument to keep him."

"Really?"

"Yes. She made a full presentation about his stats, even including his accomplishments from his amateur years. She interviewed the coaches and a couple of his teammates about his sportsmanship and how he impacted team morale."

_Thanks, Elsa_, Anna thought.

"Of course, I knew there had to be a reason behind it; Elsa had never gotten so involved in trade discussions before. I suspect she's known for a while about the two of you?" Adgar asked.

"Yeah."

"I figured as much. And as far as you and Kristoff are concerned, as long as you're both happy, I'm happy."

Anna smiled. "We are."

"He treats you well?"

Anna nodded. "He does. He's… well he's just really great. I'm happier than I've been in a long time."

"I can see it," Adgar said. "Your mother can, too. You seem content and at peace. I know that isn't only because of Kristoff, either. You've come a long way, Anna. I'm proud of you."

The door to the medical wing opened then, and out stepped Dr. Kendall. He was about Adgar's age, perhaps just a little younger, and he had round eyeglasses and a five o'clock shadow.

"How's he doing?" Adgar asked immediately, standing up. Anna stood, too, taking a deep breath.

"He's alright," replied Dr. Kendall. "Sprained quad. Nothing too serious. He'll have to sit the rest of this one out and will be day-by-day for the next couple of practices, but with enough rest he should be okay to play in the next game."

Anna could feel herself breathe a sigh of relief. Her father did, too.

"Thank goodness!" he exclaimed happily. "I was worried; that was some hit!"

"I'm guessing it was the way he landed, actually," Dr. Kendall said. "His left side took the brunt of the check but the sprain is on his right. Doesn't matter, really. The point is he should be good as new in a few days."

"Excellent. Are we allowed in?"

"By all means," Dr. Kendall said. "I'm going to go assist Dr. Morelli with the Toronto player. Pavalov got in quite a punch!"

Dr. Kendall disappeared back into the medical wing and turned left toward the other examination room. Meanwhile, Anna followed Adgar into the one on the right. She grinned as she saw Kristoff laying on the table with his leg propped up; he was very obviously attempting to move it.

"No, no!" Adgar said with a chuckle. "You heard the man: rest it! How're you feeling?"

"Annoyed," Kristoff fumed. "I want to get back out there. This game's too import… hey," he said slowly. He'd finally noticed Anna standing behind her father. He looked at Adgar, then back at Anna.

"Hi," Anna said, offering a little wave and attempting to ignore the fact that, despite her father already knowing everything, her cheeks were burning. "I just wanted to come down and see… well, how you were doing."

"Oh… um… thanks. I, uh… I'm alright. Should be good in a couple of days. Not soon enough," he added jokingly.

"Well, hopefully you'll be well enough for Easter," Adgar chimed in. "You coming for dinner?"

"I… what?"

"Easter dinner, with the family," he continued. "If you don't already have plans of your own, you're more than welcome to join us."

"Uh…" he mumbled, looking at Anna for answers. All she could do was shake her head and shrug.

"Well, it's next weekend, obviously," Adgar said, "so I don't need an answer now. But if you could let Anna know by Wednesday, that'd be fantastic."

"I … alright."

"Anyway, I've got to get back upstairs. Glad to see you're doing well, Kristoff. Remember: rest! I'll see you later, Anna." He gave his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek before making his brisk exit, leaving the dumbfounded pair in an awkward silence. Anna could feel herself begin to blush again, this time due to her father's intentional nonchalance.

"So, uh… hello," Kristoff said after a moment.

"Hey," Anna hummed. "How's your leg?"

"Sore if I move it the wrong way. But it's just a sprain. Nothing to fuss over."

"Yeah, _now _there isn't," Anna said. "I was freaking out! When I saw you go down… I worried it was so much worse…"

"What are you even doing here? Not that I'm complaining, of course," he added quickly, "but I thought tonight was your night off."

"It is," Anna said. "I bought a ticket to the game. I was in the stands."

Kristoff snorted. "I totally would go and get myself injured on the night my girlfriend is watching. Wonderful."

"Hey, it wasn't your fault. And you're going to be fine in a couple of days."

"Speaking of a couple of days," Kristoff said, "I have to let you know about Easter by Wednesday? Why am I being invited to Easter?"

"Oh… you know… apparently Mom and Dad have known about us for a while," Anna muttered.

"How?"

"Long story short, Dad saw us in the exhibition hall the day of the Youth Hockey Program."

"So? We were just setting up the… _oh_," Kristoff said. He, too, began to blush. "He saw that?"

"Uh-huh."

"My boss saw me all over his daughter."

"Yup."

"He saw me grabbing her bottom."

"Yeah… wait, what? You grabbed my bottom that day?"

"Maybe not. Maybe I was just thinking about it a lot."

"Kristoff!" Anna giggled.

"What? You know I love your bottom. We've had this conversation several times."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"Anyway, he's not mad?"

"Of course not," Anna said. "Would he have invited you to Easter dinner if he was?"

Kristoff shrugged. "Maybe he was just being nice. Or maybe he's attempting to lure me in so he can show me his shotgun."

"Oh, stop! My dad doesn't have a shotgun," Anna laughed. "Really, he's… he's happy for us. And honestly, it's only been a few minutes since he told me that, but I already feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't realize how much it bothered me that I hadn't told my parents about us yet."

Kristoff smiled. "I'm glad."

"So… do you already have plans for Easter?"

"I don't, actually," Kristoff said.

"Really?" Anna said, feeling suddenly hopeful. The second her dad had suggested it, she fell in love with the idea of having Kristoff over for the holiday. "Because you're more than welcome to join us. It's a lot of fun. We always spend it on the Cape and-"

"Oh, so you don't stay home?" Kristoff asked. "I mean, I wouldn't want to be a burden if you're traveling."

"Oh, well… yeah, we travel, but not to a hotel or anything. We go to… er, our other house. We have a home in Brewster," Anna said sheepishly. It felt wrong admitting to her former foster kid boyfriend that her family had a vacation home on the Cape. She was once again reminded of her privilege, and though she knew she had no reason to feel guilty, the discomfort came anyway.

"That sounds nice."

"It… it really is," Anna murmured, cheeks still pink. "It's a really simple weekend. Thanksgiving and Christmas are always so busy, so we try to keep Easter light. It's just us, and aside from Easter dinner, we usually spend the weekend playing board games and stuff. It sounds really lame now that I'm saying it out loud…"

"No, it doesn't. And… yeah. Yeah, I'll come."

Anna perked up. "You will?"

"Of course. Anna, you came all the way up to Franconia to spend time with my family. It's only fair I do the same for you. And it sounds like a great time, anyway."

Anna grinned and leaned forward to hug him. It was bit awkward seeing as he was still up on the table, but she nuzzled his neck just the same.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered before kissing him gently. When she pulled back, she saw Kristoff grinning.

"Did you have a beer tonight?"

Anna shrugged. "Maybe."

"My, my, Miss Arendelle. How I've corrupted you…"

"You've done nothing of the sort," she giggled. "I drank before I met you, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, you lush," Kristoff joked. "Anyway, about tonight. I know we were planning to go out, but…"

"Obviously, we aren't. You need rest."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. We can just stay in. Unless you'd rather hang by yourself tonight. That's fine, too."

"Of course not!" Kristoff exclaimed. "You trying to bail on me now that I'm damaged?"

"Oh, shut up," Anna chortled. "What do you want to do about dinner, then? Do you want to order out, or would you rather me cook? And before you even start," she added once she saw him grinning, "I _can_ cook some things. I may not have as wide of a range as you, but I can cook."

"I'm not doubting that," Kristoff said. "But, I still have to stay until the end of the game. By the time we get out of here, pick up things at the grocery store, get home, and cook, it'll be pretty late. We'd probably be better off ordering something."

"Hm. Pizza? Quick and simple."

"Deal."

Anna's phone buzzed then. Figuring it was a text from Elsa, she fished her phone out of her pocket. It wasn't a text, but rather a reminder from her calendar:

Daylight savings tonight. Push clocks ahead!

"Ugh," Anna sighed. "I forgot we lost an hour of sleep tonight."

"That's tonight? Damn it. Why do we even still have to do that?"

"I don't know. It's stupid. Plus, that means one less hour I get to spend with you."

Kristoff chuckled. "I guess it's better to lose it on a night I can't do a whole lot for you, right?"

"What do you… _oh_," Anna giggled when he raised his eyebrow. "Right. That's true. But…"

"But…?"

"Well… I can still do things for you, you know," she hinted. She smiled when Kristoff drew in a deep breath.

"Hmm," he breathed. "You're naughty. I love it."

Anna took his hand and gave it a small squeeze, which he reciprocated. Their eyes met for a moment and, as always, Anna's insides melted. They'd lose an hour that night, but they'd surely make up for it in the weeks and months to come. Anna was sure of that. If Kristoff didn't intend for what they shared to be long term, he wouldn't have invited her to Franconia of agreed to head down the Cape with her to spend Easter with her family. Those were two big steps, and Anna hoped he knew just how much it meant to her that he was willing to take them.

"You should go enjoy the rest of the game," he suggested. "You paid for your ticket. Don't let me spoil your night. We'll get together later."

Anna shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know, I know. It's been far too long. I suck and I'm sorry. But, alas, life is life, and it takes precedence. At least the Bruins made the playoffs this year? :D

Also, if this chapter feels mediocre, I'm really sorry. It's bridging the gap to a particular event!


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